Conquest
by showmaster64x
Summary: It started out as an order from Aizen. It ended as something so much more. Yaoi Grimmjow/Ulquiorra. mpreg
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Edited. The reason it is bolded is because most of the story is a flashback. The bolded parts are the present.

This story contains some very graphic scenes. Warnings for violence and sex. This story is also mpreg so if you don't like that sort of thing, please don't complain to me about it.

Chapter 1

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**

**Grimmjow looked upon the entrance to the forest and shuddered. Here was the place where he had been born into this world. Somewhere, in another life, he had become a souless human, wretched and unloved enough to the point where he could not be saved.**

**And so he became a hollow. He slowly moved up the ranks, eating his way to menos grande, and from there, adjuchas. Joining Aizen's arrancar army had been the next logical step.**

**But this place...**

**It brought back so many memories, most of them horrifying, most of them nightmare inducing. In the hollow forest it was a constant fight for survival, governed by the most basic laws of nature. You kill, or you die. It was that simple. **

**Grimmjow was here to look for a defector. One of the strongest espada ever to roam this dimension had been missing for many moon cycles. Grimmjow had made it his mission to find him. If he had managed to survive, it was Grimmjow's job to either win him over...**

**or eliminate him.**

**Grimmjow was in his released state as he jumped with the grace of a feline from tree to tree. Anything could be lurking in here. The world was against him, as it was against everyone else. He would not be taking any chances.**

**He spotted a group of adjunchas loafing around. They were a meaningless existence now that the chain of command had been broken. Violent, destructive, and dangerous in great numbers, with nothing better to do they could only wreck havoc. Unfortunately, they were the only intelligent life Grimmjow had come across so far. **

**He landed feet from them, causing them to jump out of their skins and bare their fangs and claws. **

"**This is our territory, arrancar," one of the things growled, "You'd best be leaving before we all tear you to shreds."**

**Grimmjow flared his reiatsu. He would show these insolent beasts who was truly superior. They backed away in fright after feeling his full strength. This wasn't just any arrancar. He was powerful enough to be an espada...perhaps even more. In these months of idleness, it seemed they had forgotten their place. Grimmjow smirked. **

**The group of adjuncas reluctantly sunk into bows. The leader approached, "What is it, O noble espada, that you require of us?"**

"**I am looking for someone. Perhaps you have seen him in these parts. A small arrancar with a mask covering half his head, black hair...bat-like..."**

"**Ahh…" purred the adjunchas while his cronies snickered behind him, "_That_ one. Yes he lives in that cave up in the cliffs. I wouldn't go near, he gets awful protective" **

"**And angry," another chipped in, "Former espada can never quite accept their place once they are back in the forest. It's only a matter of time before he is de-evolves."**

**Grimmjow turned around and the others noticed the scar on his back.**

"**There has been a disturbance in the ranks of the espada, hasn't there?" the adjuncas leader said. "We can feel it. We know something big has happened."**

"**...ch," Grimmjow brushed him off and took off back into the trees. **

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**

**Rocks tumbled as Grimmjow climbed the steep cliffs. He pushed his matted blue hair out of his face and looked down. It was a long way…a long, long way to the canopy of barren trees below. Ahead was a cave, dark and foreboding, not at all welcoming. The very atmosphere sent chills down Grimmjow's spine. He entered cautiously, mentally preparing for what he may meet inside. **

**He fought through the darkness. Tiny hollows scampered out of sight, alarmed at the sudden intrusion. Grimmjow continued onward. **

**Grimmjow couldn't see but he could feel...he could sense that he was unwelcome by the cave's inhabitant. He waited for the darkness to speak.**

"**Who. Are. You." hissed a slow, deadly voice. The hairs on Grimmjows neck were raised, as they always did when he felt threatened. The voice continued, "You've come to take my sword, haven't you? Know that I will not surrender it without a fight. Step into the light where I can see you."**

**There was an opening in the rock ceiling where moonlight was spilling through. Grimmjow stepped in and light flooded his features. There was a gasp from Grimmjow's dark assailant. "Sexta, is that you?"**

**There was a moment of hesitation, "Aye," Grimmjow answered, "As you remember." He left the circle of light, stepping away from his captor. "You're right. I've come for you. You've been formally dismissed from the ranks of the espada, Ulquiorra."**

**Ulquiorra snarled. "What has happened to cause such a thing? _I_ am the fourth espada! _ I _have always been in Aizen's good graces!"**

"**I'm afraid…Aizen is dead."**

"**Dead?" Ulquiorra hissed, "Impossible!"**

"**It's very possible, and you know it. There's a new order now, Ulquiorra, and you're not part of it. We can't have anyone still loyal to Aizen roaming free in this, or any other world. Ulquiorra, I have come to take your life." Grimmjow stood tall. **

**There was a flutter of wings as Ulquiorra returned to the ground from his upside-down perch. Grimmjow felt his presence from behind as he let Ulquiorra examine him. **

"**I never thought I would see you again..." the fourth espada breathed, "I never thought you would succeed...never thought you would have the gall to face me. How can you live with yourself, knowing what you've done? I see how things are now and I'm not the type to live in a world of filthy traitors. Kill me, Sexta, that is, if you can…"**

**Grimmjow faced him. This was it. This was the end. They had been through so much together and now everything was to be forgotten.**

"**Before I forget…" began Ulquiorra, "There is one last thing I must show you." He slowly unfurled his wings from around his body. Revealing what he had been hiding from Grimmjow.**

**Grimmjow stood speechless. **

"**What's the matter, Sexta? Kill me."**

**In his arms, Uquiorra held a tiny baby. Grimmjow stared at the blue fuzz on his head and the small fangs in his mouth. The little thing yawned, undisturbed by Grimmjow's presence in the cave, and continued to look at Grimmjow with curious, blue eyes.**

"**Is he…"Grimmjow hesitated, "Is he…mine?"**

"**I certainly don't remember mating with anyone else, Sexta," said Ulquiorra with narrowed eyes. **

**After a moment of silence, Grimmjow took a step forward. His eyes had softened and he held out his arms. **

"**May I?" he asked. Ulquiorra shrank back into the darkness, folding his wings around himself once more and hiding the sleepy child from view.**

"**Had you not betrayed and abandoned me, perhaps I would let you hold the result of our breeding," He snarled. **

"**Ulquiorra…" growled Grimmjow. He grabbed the other man and, for a moment, it was a battle of strength. Then, Ulquiorra lost his will to fight. He fell back against the cave wall, panting. He glared up at Grimmjow with as much hate as his eyes would allow. **

"**I…am weak," he admitted quietly, "Hurry and finish it, Grimmjow."**

"**You know I would…" began Grimmjow. He looked once more at his tiny son in Uquiorra's arms. "But right now it seems you are needed." He turned and began to walk away. **

"**I warn you, Sexta. Let us go now, and the next time you set foot in this cave I will make sure you become dinner."**

"**So be it."**

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry I havent updated this fic. I've had enough reviews for a while now, but it just so happens that I'm incredibly lazy. This chapter's got some Aizen/Ulquiorra in it. Obviously, its not gonna be the main pairing but I am throwing it out there.

Chapter 2

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The moon was high. All was silent in Aizen's bedchambers. Soft, blue light poured in through the window, illuminating the room and the two men who stood in it.

"Feeling rather bold today, aren't we?" commented Aizen with a smooth chuckle, "When did I say you were permitted to enter my personal chambers, Ulquiorra?" He walked a slow circle around the fourth espada.

"I…" Ulquiorra hesitated, wondering what he could possibly say to make up for his trespassing. Try as he might, he could not hide the color from his face or the tremble from his voice. He breathed deeply.

"I want you, Aizen-sama," he whispered, dropping to his knees. His eyes were hazy with need as he stared at the only man in the world that he respected. "This year, please, take me as your mate."

Aizen sighed, reaching down to cup the beautiful face of his subordinate.

"Cruel lust…" Aizen said with a sad smile, "It corrupts even the greatest of men." There was silence for a moment. "This certainly is problematic…this entire season. All of my precious arrancar…losing their minds, thinking only of their bodies." Ulquiorra leaned into Aizen's touch, closing his eyes and silently begging for more.

"What am I to do?" Aizen mused aloud, "I can't have my arrancar stealing into my chambers in the dead of night to confess their love for me." He gently stroked Ulquiorra's soft cheek.

"Aizen-sama…please," began Ulquiorra, "It was my sword that Kurosaki Ichigo fell to. If I don't deserve you, then who does?"

"I am no hollow, Ulquiorra. I cannot give you what you seek," said Aizen, turning his back on the fourth espada, "I have not forgotten that it was you who defeated Kurosaki, but I also have not forgotten that he somehow managed to escape along with a very important woman."

Ulquiorra shifted his gaze to the ground, feeling the sting of rejection. "You are dismissed."

"Yes, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra responded quietly. He backed out the door and shut it behind him.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ten espada sat restless in their chairs around the large white table. Aizen, at the head of the table, stared at them calmly while a servant poured his hot tea. He took a moment to take in the aroma before bringing the porcelain to his lips and sipping cautiously. He set the cup down.

"It's a narrow victory we have won, my dear espada. Karakura town has fallen to us and the shinigami have retreated back into their own realm, but make no mistake. They will return; stronger and in greater numbers. We must use this momentary ceasefire to nurse our wounds and rebuild our ranks.

It has not escaped my notice that a certain time of year is upon us. Some of you may already be feeling the effects of mating season, but unfortunately I cannot allow such activities to take place freely within the walls of Las Noches.

Ulquiorra…"

"Yes, Aizen-sama?"

"You, alone, have earned mating privileges. It is my wish that this year you bear a child. You may mate with whomever you deem fit and they have no power to refuse you."

"I…understand." Ulquiorra clenched his fists beneath the table. There was an uproar over this. Why should Ulquiorra get to be the only one to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh? The jealousy and outrage was tangible.

Perhaps Aizen thought himself merciful, perhaps this was a gesture of pity after what had happened the night before, but Ulquiorra saw it only as punishment because he was loathe to be touched by anyone other than Aizen himself.

As they filed out of the room after the meeting, Ulquiorra pushed Grimmjow aside. Blue eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

"Grimmjow, a word, if you please," Ulquiorra hissed politely as he could. Once they were out in the corridor, Grimmjow let out an obnoxious yawn.

"Come to tell me how Aizen's dick tastes?" asked Grimmjow, "I'm sure I'm not the only one who wants to know." Ulquiorra's eyes scanned the empty hall. No one was around, but he was sure they were being listened in on.

"Follow me," Ulquiorra ordered. He set off down the corridor with Grimmjow following lazily in his wake. When they came upon an open door, Ulquiorra shoved Grimmjow inside and locked the door behind them.

"Oi!" the sixth espada looked around, "what the hell do you think you're doing? This is a broom closet."

Ulquiorra drew his sword.

"Hey!" Grimmjow took a step backwards and tripped over a bucket. From the floor, he looked up at Ulquiorra. "This is ridiculous! I'm not gonna fight you…in a fucking broom closet."

"Who said anything about fighting?" asked Ulquiorra. He pointed his sword at Grimmjow's throat. "Take off your clothes. We're having sex."

Grimmjow roared with laughter. He emerged gasping for breath and wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Me? And you? Ha!" he dissolved into another fit, "Have you lost your mind?"

"I don't see what the problem is," said Ulquiorra, "I fulfill my duty to Aizen, and you get to be the animal that you are." Grimmjow stood up slowly. He wasn't laughing anymore.

"Now look here," the taller man snarled, "Unlike you, I don't fuck just anybody. Least of all people that I'd rather run through with my sword."

"I don't have time for this," said Ulquiorra, "Under Aizen's orders, you are not allowed to refuse me. Now drop your pants, Sexta." Grimmjow eyed Ulquiorra's sword once more and winced when the tip pricked his throat. Slowly, he removed his jacket and hakama.

Ulquiorra couldn't help but stare up and down the man's muscular body. His eyes came to rest upon Grimmjow's erect manhood.

"Hard for me, Grimmjow?"

"You only wish. It's always like that these days," Grimmjow responded. Ulquiorra would be lying if he said he didn't know the feeling. He sheathed his sword and advanced upon his captive.

"Why me, Ulquiorra?" asked Grimmjow. "You coulda picked anyone. Why me?"

"Hmm," Ulquiorra paused for a moment, "True, you're not the strongest or the smartest…but let me put it this way: If all goes smoothly, I shall be…incapacitated…for a period of time and I thought to myself "who is most likely to try and kill me while I am in my weakened state?""

"So you picked me because…I'm the biggest threat?" Blue eyes met green in a battle of hatred. Suddenly Grimmjow pulled back his fist. Ulquiorra caught it before it could collide with his face, however he was unable to catch the other one, which punched him in the gut. He doubled over, tasting blood in his mouth.

"I'm a simple man, Ulquiorra. Next time try seducing me instead of using your sword."

"You bastard," Ulquiorra coughed. Grimmjow put his clothes back on and left Ulquiorra alone in the dark broom closet.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Read no further Hiddenxshadow! I shall not be the one to taint your innocence! But seriously dont read this one, its crap. You dont even like lemons.

Chapter 3

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The portal closed and Ulquiorra found himself back in the Hueco Mundo with the light of the eternal moon glaring down upon him. The walls of Las Noches stood in front of him and the grains of the desert sand shifted under his feet as he began to walk. A tall shadow fell over his path.

"Welcome back," sneered the voiced behind him. Ulquiorra did not turn around. He simply stopped and waited patiently.

"Nnoitora…" Ulquiorra acknowledged.

"Where have you been for the past few days?"

"I don't believe that's any of your business."

"Hn, oh really? Out there enjoying what is forbidden to the rest of us?"

"And if I have?" Ulquiorra heard Nnoitora take a few steps forward. His hand twitched on the hilt of his sword when he felt the taller man breathing down his neck.

"You don't smell like it," said Nnoitora. He leaned in closer so that he was speaking right into Ulquiorra's ear. "Why not have a go with me?"

Ulquiorra shrugged him off and continued up the marble staircase. Using sonido, Nnoitora reappeared in front of Ulquiorra, his giant scythe blocking the large doors.

"Stand aside," said Ulquiorra, "I've already chosen my mate."

"I can't do that," responded Nnoitora, licking his lips, "As long as you have no one's scent on you, I'm afraid you're free for the taking."

"Then let us fight. I'll make sure to remind you of your place, number five."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

It was a few hours before the fifth espada was conscious again. He opened his eyes slowly, blood clouding his vision, and eased himself into a sitting position.

As he sat there, seething and regenerating, he was joined by a familiar presence.

"And just what the hell are you looking at, Szayel?" Nnoitora managed to growl. The eighth espada merely chuckled.

"Aizen said there had been a bit of a scuffle. Naturally, I was sent to pick up the pieces. Now, what sort of injuries have you sustained?" the pink-haired man asked as he pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose.

"That goddamn bitch! When I get my hands on him-"

"But you won't," Szayel interrupted, "Please, Nnoitora. No one just 'gets their hands' on Ulquiorra. I would have thought you'd have learned that by now." Nnoitora angrily pounded his fist into the sand. "No, no," continued Szayel, turning his back to his comrade and pulling a vile of unknown liquid from his person, "An operation such as this requires a bit more…" he held the vile up to the moonlight, "finesse."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Szayel nearly giggled with excitement as his eyes glanced over the exquisite specimen upon his table.

"This isn't necessary," commented Ulquiorra in his monotone voice.

"Sure it is," responded Szayel. He looked over his instruments and back to Ulquiorra. "We all just want to make sure that you're in good health for the pregnancy. You wouldn't want to disappoint Aizen now, would you?"

Ulquiorra sighed and removed his shirt. Szayel's eyes traveled over his lithe frame and he held back a shudder. "Lie down," commanded Szayel. Ulquiorra complied, his green orbs following his fellow espada's hands closely. He hissed when those cold fingers made contact with his bare skin. Dexterous hands ghosted over his chest, hovering just for a moment above his hardened nipples, and causing Ulquiorra's breath to catch in his throat. He relaxed slightly when those fingers began to massage his lower abdomen. It wasn't until the scientist's hands began to explore lower that Ulquiorra finally became fed up.

"Enough," he growled, "I'm having trouble believing that your interests are purely academic."

Szayel removed his hands in an attempt to placate the fourth espada, but otherwise ignored him. "I'm going to perform a few tests now." He turned back to the counter and began rummaging through his drawers. "Oh and before I forget…" Ulquiorra suddenly felt a prick upon his arm and looked up to see a nasty grin appear on his doctor's face.

"What-" began Ulquiorra.

"A mild sedative," Szayel answered.

Ulquiorra pushed him away with such force that it sent the Szayel flying into his cart of instruments. Ulquiorra stood up and ripped the syringe from his arm.

"I should have known," he spat as he headed out the door. Outside, he found himself face to face with Nnoitora.

"Going somewhere?" he sneered. Ulquiorra's eyes widened in realization. He used sonido to escape and came upon a large room with a false ceiling. Somehow, Nnoitora had gotten in front of him and stood blocking the exit. Turning around, Ulquiorra noticed Szayel had come up from behind.

Ulquiorra held his head as his vision began to swim before his eyes. He regained focus only to watch Nnoitora's fist collide with his face. The next blows he was only able to block. It seemed that his reaction time had become impaired. Every move that Nnoitora made, Ulquiorra noticed a second too late.

The fourth espada reached for his sword. He could still release. It was against the rules for Ulquiorra to release within the walls of Las Noches but what other choice did he have at this point?

"Well, well, what do we have here?" came an amused voice. Three sets of eyes turned to see the sixth espada make his entrance. "An unfair fight?" guessed Grimmjow, cracking his knuckles loudly, "It must be my lucky day,"

"Don't jump to conclusions," said Szayel.

"Jump to conclusions? It must be an unfair fight if you're involved," replied Grimmjow, "So whose ass are we ganking today?" his blue eyes flickered over to a rather defeated-looking Ulquiorra. "Ah, now there's something you don't see often…"

"Beat it!" snarled Nnoitora

"This does not concern you, Grimmjow," said Szayel.

Grimmjow's eyes had not left Ulquiorra. He stared back with an unreadable expression. Despite the fourth espada's hardened look, Grimmjow could not help but notice his cloudy eyes and how he swayed slightly on his feet. The man had obviously been given some sort of drug. Grimmjow strode purposefully over to Ulquiorra, casually throwing an arm around the smaller espada's shoulders.

"I'm afraid anything that concerns my mate, concerns me as well," answered Grimmjow evenly.

"Oh my. _Your_ mate?" asked Szayel skeptically while Nnoitora narrowed his eyes dangerously, both of them waiting for Ulquiorra's reaction.

Ulquiorra, who had been rigid in the Sexta's embrace, suddenly softened, resting his body against Grimmjow's hard frame and smirking victoriously at Szayel and Nnoitora.

"Trash…" was all he said.

The two offending espada hissed at the insult. Grimmjow's hand moved to his sword, stopping the other two in their tracks. Nnoitora and Ulquiorra were forbidden from releasing, but Grimmjow and Szayel were not. With a clear mind about just who would win this fight, Nnoitora and Szayel sulked away.

"You owe me one," Grimmjow huffed as he shoved Ulquiorra away from him. The fourth espada was suddenly furious.

"I did not ask for your help, Grimmjow." he spoke in a deadly voice. He grabbed the sixth by his collar and brought him down to his height. "It is your fault I was caught in such a situation to begin with. The least you can do is make sure it doesn't happen again."

Grimmjow only stared at him, confused. Really, must he spell it out for the oaf? Ulquiorra brought their lips together with bruising ferocity. Grimmjow suddenly backed away, scowling.

"You are my enemy!"

"Which is why you will never get a chance like this again. Now for once, do what you are told and mate me!"

Grimmjow balled his fists at his sides. His eyes darkened. Then he approached his superior again, getting close enough so that Ulquiorra was forced to look up at him.

"_Mating_ is for lovers," Grimmjow hissed, "Because you insist, and because nature wills it, I will _fuck_ you. You're smug, and you're naïve but goddamn I will be the one to crush your little dreams and show you what fucking is really like. And then...then you will be sorry you ever chose me in the first place."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ulquiorra dared to close his eyes. Only for a moment. The sedative Szayel had given him earlier was stronger than anticipated. How badly he wanted to just sleep.

Grimmjow slapped him, hard.

"I'm not through with you yet." He entered the body below him once again. Ulquiorra winced in pain, his mouth falling open in a soundless curse. He thrashed and twisted beneath Grimmjows weight seeking some relief as Grimmjow's cock penetrated him mercilessly. "Keep your damn legs open," the sixth growled. Blood and other fluids dripped slowly onto the white sheets.

Ulquiorra had kept silent the entire time. True to his word, Grimmjow had made every touch painfull, but Ulquiorra refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. This wasn't what Ulquiorra had been expecting at all. Perhaps he had made the wrong choice after all. It wasn't long before Ulquiorra's body began to betray him.

"Crying Ulquiorra? Crying for Aizen to come save you?" Grimjow said breathlessly. What the hell was he talking about? Ulquiorra reached up to his own face and felt the wetness on his cheeks. Tears? How could this be? The fourth espada did not cry.

Explanations and witty remarks were lost to Ulquiorra as Grimmjow suddenly took his limp cock in his hand and began stroking it to hardness.

"What are you doing...Sexta?" Ulquiorra panted, color spreading across his face. Yes, that felt quite good, better than with his own hand. He lifted his hips, thrusting into Grimmjow's hand. He immediately regretted it, as the movement forced Grimmjow's cock deeper into his body. In his mind, the pleasurable feelings battled against the painful ones for dominance. Grimmjow began his thrusting anew and at the same time kept his hand working Ulquiorra.

"Ngh,"came the small sound from Ulquiorra's mouth. He could feel the pressure building in him and suddenly Grimmjow's cock did not seem so intrusive anymore. In fact, it was quite pleasant.

And then it was over. Grimmjow stilled once again and filled Ulquiorra with his seed. Ulquiorra quickly hid the disappointment from his face, but he was sure Grimmjow had seen it.

"Finish me!" commanded Ulquiorra.

"Sorry. Not in the job description."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: Hiddenxshadow! what did i tell you about reading this story! I've got crops and whips, dont think i wont use them on you.

Anyway, feel free to correct me if im wrong, but im assuming that Ulquiorra was one of the espadas that Aizen created (it would certainly explain his loyalty to Aizen) and that would make him...what? No older than a year? Whereas Grimmjow has spent who knows how many years evolving. Its only natural that Grimmjow would be far more experienced in matters such as sex. That is how I justify making Ulquiorra uke.

If you wish to see another chapter before your death then review damnit! Im not guaranteeing it'll happen but it will certainly help.


	4. Chapter 4

Correct you are, HiddenxShadow, but it is not the whips and chains you need fear; it is the seme wielding them.

A/N: Perhaps I gave some of you the wrong impression with the beginning of this story. Just because its an mpreg does not mean it's going to be in any way happy or lovey-dovey. Yes, there will be moments, but Grimmjow and Ulquiorra are cold blooded espada!

Anyway, anyone that is interested in beta-ing this rag just send me a message

Chapter 4

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The next day came too soon, in Ulquiorra's opinion. He woke tangled in Grimmjow's limbs, heady scents in the room lingering from the night before and reminding the fourth espada of their deed. He shoved Grimmjow's weight off of him and rose painfully from the bed. Grimmjow seemed not to notice, turning in his sleep and letting out a sound akin to a purr.

The white walls of the grand hall where Aizen held his meetings were glaringly bright. Per usual, Ulquiorra was first to arrive. He all but collapsed in his chair. After regenerating his wounds, he found his nether regions still throbbing, aching, and utterly unsatisfied.

The rest of them sauntered in one by one; Zomari, Aaroneiro, Hannibel, Barrigon, Szayel, Yami, and Nnoitora. Aizen took his place at the head of the table. Grimmjow, and Stark arrived late, as always.

"Glad you two could join us," Aizen said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. Stark ran his fingers through his hair. Grimmjow seemed to be in too good of a mood to care about Aizen's scolding. He took his seat, a wide grin stretched on his face. The others turned away, snarling jealously.

Aizen sensed the change in atmosphere.

"It seems you have made your choice, Ulquiorra," he said, eyeing both him and Grimmjow, a mildly amused expression playing on his features. "A poor choice…but a choice nonetheless."

As Aizen began to outline the day's objectives, Ulquiorra felt Grimmjow's eyes on him. He slowly turned to meet them. Grimmjow smirked.

Then Ulquiorra felt something connect with his boot beneath the table. And again. He gave Grimmjow a disdainful look but the other man seemed to only be enticed further. Grimmjow's foot traveled up Ulquiorra's leg and the fourth espada let out a low growl. Grimmjow relaxed back in his chair, pretending to listen to Aizen intently. All of the sudden Grimmjow's boot brushed against Ulquiorra's throbbing erection. The smaller espada flinched involuntarily.

"Ulquiorra…" Aizen began slowly. The fourth espada looked up, realizing that he hadn't paid attention to a word Aizen had said and that perhaps his behavior had been disruptive, "You are excused".

Ulquiorra stood.

"Yes, Aizen-sama. Forgive me, Aizen-sama."

For the remainder of the meeting, Ulquiorra sat outside the door, silently fuming. Never had Aizen become angry with him like that. It was that damn Sexta! How dare he make a fool of him in front of Aizen! He had known what he was doing…sitting there the entire time with that smirk on his handsome face.

Ulquiorra reentered the room once the others had left, knowing that he'd best ask Aizen to pardon his rudeness. He was surprised to see Grimmjow still seated at his spot, then noticing that Aizen's frightening reiatsu was keeping him in place. Ulquiorra opened his mouth-

"There is no need to apologize, my dear Ulquiorra. Grimmjow has already done so." Aizen stared at the both of them for a moment and seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. He settled comfortably back in his chair.

"Grimmjow, your mate is suffering. Please tend to him." Aizen suggested. Ulquiorra's eyes widened. Aizen…wanted to watch them?

Grimmjow rose from his chair like a ghost and approached Ulquiorra. He closed his arms around him in a stiff embrace. Ulquiorra stood frozen, his mind reeling for an excuse. He did not want Aizen to see this. Grimmjow began to strip him of his clothing with detached motions and took a hold of his erection while his tongue made a small trail down his neck.

Ulqiuorra's mind reluctantly clouded with lust. He gripped Grimmjow's shoulders tightly and buried his face in the other man's neck. A moan rumbled in Grimmjow's throat. His hands traveled down Ulquiorra's sides and came to rest on his hips. Ulquiorra shuddered violently as he crushed their bodies together.

"Don't get used to this," Grimmjow breathed in his ear quietly so that only his mate would hear. Ulquiorra inhaled sharply after feeling Grimmjow's hot breath against his neck. Grimmjow spun him around, hands greedily running over his chest and abdomen before giving his cock a few, hard strokes.

Ulquiorra stifled a whimper. He leaned over, placing his palms on the table and arching his back. Grimmjow's heaving chest was pressed against him, his arousal pressing against his backside, desperately seeking entrance. They stood there for a moment, simply rocking back and forth.

"Do it, Grimmjow," ordered Aizen. The sixth espada needed no further persuasion. He penetrated the man beneath him with agonizing slowness. Ulquiorra buried his face in his arms, hiding whatever emotions that may have shown on his face from view.

"Raise your head, Ulquiorra, and look at me," commanded Aizen. The fourth espada did as he was told, his emerald eyes locking with Aizen's murky brown ones. "You are angry with me," suggested Aizen.

"No, Aizen –sama, simply humiliated."

Grimmjow proceeded to fuck him with little enthusiasm and little mercy, making Ulquiorra wonder if he should feel grateful or annoyed by the other man. Surely, the sexta wasn't enjoying this either, right? Copulating purely for Aizen's amusement? Or was he perhaps getting some twisted form of satisfaction out of fucking his superior in front of the one man he respected?

Ulquiorra began to stroke his own erection while Grimmjow continued to pound into him. Within minutes he was a panting, quivering mess, his body shamelessly begging for more. Careless, he let a small moan escape his mouth. That noise seemed to unhinge Grimmjow completely. He came hard with Ulquiorra following immediately after.

Aizen stood and, with a pleased expression, left the two espada alone in the room. They both felt his threatening reiatsu ebb and finally disappear.

"Sick fucker…" Grimmjow growled. For once, Ulquiorra didn't have anything to respond with.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The door to Szayel's laboratory slid shut behind Ulquiorra as he exited. The fourth espada only frowned looking down the hall as if expecting someone. Instead of heading to his room, he decided that he did not want to be alone with his thoughts at this time and turned towards the training hall instead.

Inside, he met the familiar form of Grimmjow. He was a bit surprised to see him back so soon, but then realized that two weeks had been ample time to complete his mission.

"Out," he told the other man, "I'm using this facility."

Grimmjow stopped what he was doing and wiped the sweat from his brow, looking extremely annoyed.

"I was here first," he answered, "You're just gonna have to wait." His lips suddenly turned into a grin. "Unless you fancy a spar?"

"No. Out."

"Declining a challenge? Afraid I'll kick your ass?" wondered Grimmjow aloud. The fire in Ulquiorra's eyes said that he would like nothing more than to take on Grimmjow at this moment. He cocked his head slightly.

"Grimmjow…I could beat you with my hands tied."

"Then prove it. Right now," spat Grimmjow.

"It's already been proven. I took down Kurosaki when you could not."

"Yet he escaped you. Besides who do you think did most of the work tiring him out? Some of us didn't have the luxury of fighting him while he was half dead, Ulquiorra."

"Get out," said Ulquiorra. The conversation had become tiresome. He did not have to explain himself to Grimmjow.

"Not until you fight me," insisted Grimmjow. He shifted into a battle stance, readying himself for Ulquiorra to strike, but the other man surprised him by turning his green irises to the ground.

"Aizen has forbidden it," answered Ulquiorra.

"Forbidden?" snarled Grimmjow. Then realization dawned on him. "Oh…" he shifted awkwardly, placing a hand to the back of his head and looking away. "So that must mean you're…" he left the sentence dangling. Ulquiorra merely nodded. The sixth espada stared at the smaller man, as if seeing him in a whole new light. "Well," said Grimmjow retrieving his sword and preparing to leave, "I guess you don't need me anymore."

"I…guess I don't," Ulquiorra agreed quietly.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

_Humans are kinda pathetic _thought Grimmjow vaguely as he stared down at Kawakura town. _What on earth drives them to live? Their daily lives revolve around material things. They didn't do battle with swords or evolve._

He descended from his position in the sky and cautiously landed on the grounds of a school. He knew that this was the place that Kurosaki and his friends often attended but since their battle in the Hueco Mundo, they had not returned to Kawakura Town.

Grimmjow set his mind to his patrol. His main job nowadays was to guard this place from the Shinigami, but there were, however, other duties as well. Because the town would soon be sacrificed, its population would have to be protected. That meant that the Espada were now forced to do the job of the Shinigami, ferrying the corrupted souls to the Hueco Mundo before havoc could be wrecked.

After weeks and weeks of performing this task, Grimmjow was beginning to wonder why the Shinigami would devote themselves to something so useless. It seemed that humans would tear themselves apart no matter what. Perhaps this was the reason that Aizen had defected.

_Aizen. _The fools all thought he was a god, but the man had his weaknesses...Grimmjow could see. Sometimes he thought he was the only one. Aizen was no lord. He was no hollow. He was a goddamn shinigami who had betrayed his own people. He couldn't expect to come to the Hueco Mundo and reign supreme for all eternity.

_Some of us have our pride still_

"And just what do you think you can do about it?" Ulquiorra had asked him once a long time ago, "Do you think you could lead us, Sexta? You should bow your head and show some respect if you know what's good for you."

Deep down, Grimmjow knew that he and Ulquiorra wanted the same thing; wanted power. It's just that they had different ways of going about it. Grimmjow would always be the rebel. And Ulquiorra would always be the whore.

Goddamnit, Grimmjow hated that arrancar so much! Hated his _attitude_. Hated his _arrogance_. Hated that he was higher ranked. Hated that he hated something so much.

Yes, he hated Ulquiorra most…passionately.

Grimmjow turned his eyes to where the sun was high in the sky. He shielded his face with his hand, feeling the glaring rays upon him.

After the death of his fraccion, and after his defeat at the hands of Kurosaki Ichigo, Grimmjow felt as if something in himself had changed. All of the sudden he felt tired of the constant battle for existence in the Hueco Mundo. He was tired of the politics, the lies Aizen fed to them of domination and glory, and of his brainwashed fellow espada.

He found himself longing for…the day.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you to the lovely reviewers who caught my mistakes. Now that I've caught up on the anime again, things should be more accurate.

Chapter 5

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

As someone who had lived his whole life in the Hueco Mundo's darkness, Ulquiorra still found Las Noches, in all her unnatural beauty, to be quite eerie at times. Spotlessly clean, ornate with its uncharted labyrinth of corridors, and imposing with its towers disappearing into the black abyss of sky, it was unchanging constant in a world of shifting sands.

Walking alone down the large hallway with only the sounds of his boots tapping on the floor to ward away the overwhelming silence, Ulquiorra made his way to Aizen's chambers. The day was over and it was time to report.

He stopped for a moment and placed his hand against the wall for support. Lately he had been plagued by fatigue, tiring easily and finding himself unable to complete certain tasks. Today was no exception.

The sound of low voices just around the corner caught his attention. Normally Ulquiorra wasn't the type to eavesdrop. The fourth espada cared not for the happenings of other arrancars' lives. The only man whose words mattered was Aizen. Interestingly enough, Aizen's words seemed to be the topic of discussion.

"…kinda suspicious if you ask me."

"My orders from Aizen are none of your business," came Szayel's smooth voice.

"Oh yeah? Then what the hell were your clowns doing in my district today?" replied Grimmjow's voice in gruff tones.

"What's the matter? Have something to hide?"

"Look, asshole, don't be sticking your nose where it doesn't belong unless you want me to cut it off."

"Was that a threat?"

"No, just a friendly suggestion."

"Two can play at that game, Grimmjow. You don't seem to realize that you have a weakness now. You know, something to _lose._"

Grimmjow snorted. "You think you can threaten me…with _Ulquiorra?_ I have no love for that bastard."

"Oh no," purred Szayel, "Not necessarily Ulquiorra…" the man paused for a moment before continuing in a much quieter voice, "But he has something of yours, doesn't he?"

Grimmjow went silent, no doubt considering the actual gravity of Szayel's words. Ulqiuorra, either sparing Grimmjow from responding or sparing himself from hearing his reply, chose this moment step into sight and interrupt their conversation.

"Is there a problem here?" the fourth espada asked the other two. His eyes were narrowed and his voice was deadly. The two of them looked startled at being discovered, but then quickly masked it.

"No," Grimmjow growled, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away. Ulquiorra stared after him for a moment.

"Ulquiorra," began the pink-haired espada, "You agreed to see me every two weeks but you haven't come to my lab in almost a month."

Ulquiorra gave the man a pointed look and resumed his quiet walk down the hallway.

Upon entering Aizen's chambers Ulquiorra felt light-headed. It was hard enough to stand before the shinigami's intimidating figure and for once, Ulquiorra wished Aizen would tone down his reiatsu for this meeting.

"Good evening, Ulquiorra," Aizen greeted. Then, tilting his head slightly, he added, "How are you?"

"I am well, Aizen-sama."

"You don't look well."

Ulquiorra was unsure how to respond to this. He decided to begin his report. "Sir it is my belief that the shinigami have discovered a new weapon to use against us." Talking was quite a lot of effort while Aizen's spiritual pressure seemed to be forcing him into the ground .

"A new weapon?" wondered Aizen aloud, "Something other than their Zanpakuto?"

"They have been drilling kido, which makes me think that it may be some sort of seal."

Aizen pondered this for a moment. While Ulquiorra was as clueless as everyone else when it came to the full extent of Aizen's powers, he knew that the shinigamis' pathetic spells were useless against him. Aizen himself had mentioned it on a few separate occasions.

Ulquiorra remained standing even when black spots were appearing in his vision. Aizen, after all, did not take lightly to weakness.

"The fools," Ulquiorra heard Aizen say softly. When he began to talk again, Ulquiorra couldn't understand what he was saying. His surroundings were dissolving around him and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. Surely, Aizen wouldn't mind if he were to kneel for a moment.

And close his eyes for a moment…

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow had only just reached his quarters when he was summoned by Aizen once again. He took his time getting there, not eager for the upcoming assault on his psyche. If Aizen wanted to see him, he much have done something horribly wrong to warrant such direct attention.

Upon entering through the grand door, Grimmjow's eyes met with a peculiar scene. The fourth espada was lying unconscious on the floor, with Aizen standing over him.

The sight of a beaten Ulquiorra would always be a satisfying one, but Grimmjow couldn't help but wonder what exactly had happened. Was it possible that the _favorite_ espada had somehow displeased their lord? Aizen's face, of course, offered no clues.

"Take him to his room, Grimmjow."

That? That was what he had been called here for? Aizen had countless servants for such a task. For fuck's sake, Grimmjow was the sixth espada!

"Would you like me to call someone else?" Aizen asked, as if reading his mind. Grimmjow's thoughts immediately went to Szayel and the conversation they had had earlier.

_Something to lose…_

"Ch…" answered Grimmjow after realizing he had no choice. He strode over to Ulquiorra's unconscious form and set him over his shoulder. He turned his back to Aizen.

"Anything else?" Grimmjow asked almost sarcastically. He refrained from using any of the offensive names he had come up with for the man in his spare time.

"I'm glad you asked," replied Aizen, "Starting tomorrow, you will take up all of Ulquiorra's assignments."

Grimmjow's eyes widened. His first reaction was outrage. Ulquiorra's duties? On top of his own? Surely that was a punishment. It couldn't, in fact, be…a promotion…could it? Never. He loathed Aizen and he was certain the feeling was mutual. The man must have some ulterior motive.

_Bastard…_he was sick of playing Aizen's little games. He fought dirty, using mind tricks and convoluted little schemes to turn allies to enemies and enemies to allies…whatever it took to give him absolute control.

As Grimmjow started down the long hallway, he soon realized that to get to the wing of Las Noches that contained Ulquiorra's room he would have to pass through areas that were sure to be populated. He glanced at Ulquiorra's limp body. He hardly wanted to be seen as having any sort of affection for the fourth espada. Then again, he was just as reluctant to save Ulquiorra's reputation as he was to soil his own. It would be a whole lot easier if he could just dump the man outside somewhere.

"What a pain," Grimmjow said, shaking his head.

It was fortunate that most of the espada were far too self-absorbed to take notice of Grimmjow. The few that did, Grimmjow fixed with an icy glare, daring them to pick a fight with him. Nnoitora, of course, was all too happy to comment, but even he didn't stick around long.

"Taking out the trash, Grimmjow?" he sniggered.

"Seems I missed some," muttered Grimmjow.

He soon reached what he assumed was Ulquiorra's door. He had never actually seen the fourth espada come in or out of his room, in fact no one ever had. He never ate, never slept, never was sick. The man was like a ghost. Though Grimmjow had to admit, he was quite curious to see how Aizen treated his _precious _Ulquiorra. He tried the handle.

"It's locked," Grimmjow growled in annoyance.

"Why wouldn't it be?" came Ulquiorra's bored voice from over his shoulder. Grimmjow promptly let go of the other espada and put a few steps' distance between them.

"How long have you been awake, you little shit?"

"Long enough," responded Ulquiorra, "I was curious as to where you were taking me."

Grimmjow walked up to the door and kicked it in without hesitation. This hardly seemed to faze the smaller espada.

"Home, sweet home, darling," Grimmjow said venomously, ducking in through the broken frame.

The room was large; twice the size of Grimmjow's . Very plain with almost no furniture. Immaculately clean. Exactly what Grimmjow would expect from Ulquiorra. How disappointing.

And here Grimmjow was, invading Ulquiorra's privacy, hoping to gain some useful information about this puzzling arrancar. Ulquiorra didn't even care. It seemed the man had no secrets.

"Sexta…" Ulquiorra began slowly after following Grimmjow into the room. He had used Grimmjow's title, as he often did when trying to appear cold and formal, reminding Grimmjow of their ranks. "Do you desire me?"

"What?" said Grimmjow, wondering if he had heard right.

"I can't think of any other reason why you might still be here,"

"Don't flatter yourself Ulquiorra. How long is it gonna be before you realize that there is nothing between us?"

"Like it or not, Grimmjow, we have entered into a…contract…of sorts. If you wish to cast me off that is fine. All I am saying is that I am willing to uphold my end of the bargain."

_Why,_ thought Grimmjow, _Why does he have to say it like that?_ Everything was just a job to Ulquiorra. Grimmjow had never felt so used.

"Fuck you, fuck your _contract,_ but most of all fuck Aizen!"

"Sexta," Ulquiorra warned, already aware of where this was heading.

"Two-faced, conniving, arrogant son of a bitch! Keep following him like a love-struck puppy Ulquiorra. It will only be to my benefit when he finally turns around and stabs you in the back." Grimmjow knew what he was doing. He knew how dangerous his words were.

"Hold your tongue or I shall report your treachery."

He knew how to tempt Ulquiorra's anger. Ulquiorra could take any insult…what he didn't like was people talking shit about his _idol._ And so, Grimmjow laid the final brick.

"Even that won't get you into his bed."

Little, tiny changes in Ulquiorra's demeanor let Grimmjow believe that he had broken a barrier. Pale hands were curled tightly into fists, green eyes had narrowed, slim shoulders shook ever so slightly. Grimmjow grinned.

"Whacha gonna do?" he taunted, "Draw?"

Grimmjow hardly had time to blink before he was thrown up against the wall, feeling Ulquiorra's hands closing around his throat.

"I thought we weren't allowed to fight," Grimmjow managed to choke out, "Does this mean you're breaking the rules?"

Ulquiorra tightened his grip so that Grimmjow couldn't speak. His emerald eyes shone with an animalistic rage that Grimmjow had never seen in the smaller man.

"Whacha gonna do?" Ulquiorra said darkly, effectively mocking Grimmjow, "Tattle?"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: this chapter's not for the faint-hearted!

Chapter 6

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow was never one to panic; not even when Ulquiorra's thin fingers were wrapped around his throat. A final squeeze and Grimmjow's windpipe would crush. A small jerk to the side and his neck would snap. The sixth espada shuddered. At long last, _perfect, untouchable Ulquiorra _had been brought down to his level.

Grimmjow lashed out with suddenly with a kick, forcing Ulquiorra to drop him and take a step back. The sixth espada took a moment to regain his breath while he watched Ulquiorra battle his conscience. Disobeying Aizen, giving into his anger…it must have given him quite a thrill. But now he was sure to be questioning his decision.

He pounced on Ulquiorra, dragging him to the ground and pinning his small form underneath him.

Grimmjow raised his hand, a small sphere of light growing in his palm.

Ulquiorra seemed to have realized that he had made a mistake in responding to Grimmjow's taunt. The tiniest expression of pain had crossed his face. Ulquiorra Cifer never showed emotion and never let people get under his skin. Maybe it would help if Grimmjow beat some sense into him.

Ulquiorra prepared himself for the cero, closing his eyes and turning his head away.

It never came. Grimmjow let out an exasperated sigh.

"This isn't fun anymore," he complained, "There's really no point if you're not gonna take it seriously."

They stared at each other in silence. Grimmjow had no plans to get off of Ulquiorra anytime soon and Ulquiorra, for whatever reason, didn't make him.

"You've ruined my jacket," Ulquiorra finally commented, fingering a small tear in the fabric. Grimmjow took one look at the petty damage before reaching down and ripping the entire thing right down the front.

"There," replied Grimmjow. His eyes were immediately drawn to the four tattooed on Ulquiorra's chest. How long had he been telling himself that numbers meant nothing? They were a measure of strength according to Aizen's standards, but perhaps, if he were Aizen, he would still have given Ulquiorra a low number. Despite all the things Grimmjow hated about this little arrancar, there was still one thing he liked. It was the only reason Grimmjow had ever paid him any attention in the first place, and it was the same reason Grimmjow still followed Aizen.

Grimmjow was attracted to power. And Ulquiorra certainly wasn't lacking it.

It was a moment before Grimmjow realized that his hand was placed on Ulquiorra's bare chest, fingers running absently over that number. It had not escaped Grimmjow's notice that Ulquiorra's breathing had quickened. His eyes were hazy and a faint blush had spread across his face.

Ulquiorra was…aroused.

It was, more or less, a pleasant sight. It furthered Grimmjow's ego some, but did he really want to take advantage of it?

He leaned in closer and felt Ulquiorra shiver in anticipation. His hand snaked beneath the torn garment to softy caress sensitive flesh. His lips brushed against the smooth skin of Ulquiorra's neck. The smaller espada stiffened and did a rather poor job of suppressing a moan.

Ulquiorra possessed a beauty not found in any of the other arrancar; something Grimmjow had never taken the time to notice. Coldly elegant, always guarded, composed, but overflowing with a deep sadness.

Grimmjow cursed himself for becoming so painfully erect when he thought he was in control. Clothing was shed and naked skin slid against naked skin. Ulquiorra wasn't the only one panting anymore. The room was hot.

Grimmjow's hands found Ulquiorra's hips, sliding lower to grip his thighs and lift a slender leg over his shoulder. Now, pressed together with chests heaving, their eyes found each other's. Grimmjow's hand tangled itself in Ulquiorra's hair, lifting his head slightly so that their lips were almost touching.

They both stopped, suddenly aware that they had an audience.

"Aw, don't stop cause of me," Gin said, his disappointed voice not matching his ever-grinning face, "You should really fix this door if you plan do such things."

_What the hell am I doing? _Grimmjow wondered. He supposed he should be thankful to Gin for bringing him back to reality, but all he could manage was a curt "Fuck off" to the man before redressing and pushing past him on his way out the door.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Bleak, arid, and mostly devoid of life, the vast plane of Hueco Mundo's desert was spread before his sight. A sea of white sand extended in all directions reflecting moonlight back into his face. Only the occasional dune or rock structure broke up the glaring monotony.

Ulquiorra, hidden in the distance, quietly stalked his prey. A lone hollow of considerable strength was resting in the shadows nearby. She had sustained a serious injury and was attempting to regenerate her damaged body parts. After observation, Ulquiorra deduced that her powers gave her great speed and that he would have to corner her to make this work. Another day, Ulquiorra might have asked her to join him and become an arrancar, but he had put off his need to devour souls for far too long and now she was nothing but a meal.

Strong hollows were few and far between. Even harder it was to find those who weren't in league with Aizen, subdue them, and finally consume them. Ulquiorra knew a chance like this would never come again.

Ulquiorra bristled when he felt a foreign reiatsu approaching. Obnoxious, rude, triumphant…it could only be one man. Ulquiorra glanced over his shoulder to confirm his hunch and, indeed, immediately recognized that blue hair. He strode over to Ulquiorra casually, dragging his kill behind him. Ulquiorra looked back over to his prey. She was gone. Probably scared off by Grimmjow's reiatsu.

_Grimmjow…dense, uncouth, meddling… it would take him days to find her again! _

"A little far from 'Aizen-sama' aren't you?" Grimmjow tested. He followed Ulquiorra's eyes, perhaps realizing that he had just cost Ulquiorra his chance to eat.

"What do you want, Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra asked, his voice sounding more tired than he would have liked.

Grimmjow looked undecided for a while. Then, he dropped his victim on the ground between them and slid it over to Ulquiorra with his foot.

"Take it," said Grimmjow, "I only attacked him for fun anyway." It took a moment for Ulquiorra to realize that Grimmjow was serious.

"How…" Ulquiorra paused, "…generous…of you. Unfortunately, I'm not in a position where I need to accept such charity."

"Not _yet_," corrected Grimmjow. He turned his back to the fourth espada. "Just do it before I change my mind."

"But why?" continued Ulquiorra, "It's completely illogical. There is nothing you can gain from such an action."

Grimmjow let out an angry sigh, using a hand to comb back his hair roughly.

"Would it help if I told you that Aizen ordered me to do this?" he growled. Ulquiorra was not convinced.

"Whether that's true or not, it would certainly make this situation more believable," he answered. Grimmjow didn't respond, only pushing sand around with his boot while thinking, absently kicking up dust in the process. A deep rumbling sound rolled across the sky. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra both turned their attention upward, noticing that the moon was obscured by a solitary cloud.

"What can I say, Ulquiorra, sometimes things happen for no reason…kinda like rain in the desert."

He wanted to tell Grimmjow that _everything_ happened for a reason, that it might rain in this particular area of the desert because of the moisture from the mountainous region that lay north of them, but he got the feeling that Grimmjow wasn't being quite so literal; that he was merely attempting to be poetic.

"Very well," said Ulquiorra at last, kneeling down to take the hollow's soul. Water droplets began to fall lightly. Cold, wet surprises on his skin.

The rain developed a steady rhythm and Ulquiorra noticed Grimmjow becoming increasingly irritated by it. Perhaps he and Grimmjow shared a dislike of rain. They both headed for the shelter of the nearby cliffs. Once hidden from the weather, Grimmjow shook like a dog.

"You don't like being wet either?" Grimmjow asked, turning to Ulquiorra.

"It's not that simple. Rain interferes with some of my senses," Ulquiorra replied, "I would like to avoid any confrontations while it rains."

"You sure that's a good idea? Telling me you're at a disadvantage?" Grimmjow said while attempting to get his hair to stand up again. Ulquiorra merely looked at him, daring him to try something. Grimmjow broke eye contact first. He moved to the edge of their shelter, pretending to observe the rain. Ulquiorra sat down with his back resting against the rock wall.

"Do you want this?" Grimmjow asked after a long silence. He sounded hesitant, as if it had been on his mind for a while but he never could say it aloud. The question was rather vague. Grimmjow could have been referring to a number of things.

"As you said, it is unlikely a relationship between us would work out favorably," Ulquiorra replied.

"Not that," said Grimmjow. He approached Ulquiorra cautiously, kneeling in front of him. His hand reached out and Ulquiorra tensed, wary of any sort of contact without proper explanation. Grimmjow's hand rested on his stomach.

"This," clarified Grimmjow. Their eyes met. Never before had they tried to breach the subject; the part of their contract that neither of them was comfortable addressing.

When Ulquiorra didn't respond, Grimmjow pressed him, "I was never under the impression that you were the type to want a kid."

"Your impression was correct."

"Then…why?"

_Because Aizen wished it. _That was the truth. That was what Grimmjow was expecting to hear. Ulquiorra was silent.

"Ulquiorra," Grimmjow continued, "Have you ever seen a baby of…our kind?"

"No," said Ulquiorra, "but they must exist."

Grimmjow removed his hand and sat against the wall a few feet away from the fourth espada.

"Human infants, or little kids even, don't become hollows when they die. How could they? They are innocent and carefree. Their lives carry no sadness or regret," Grimmjow said slowly. He looked back over to his companion. "So the only way they could exist would be from two hollows screwing."

"I know how it's done, Grimmjow."

"Shut the hell up. That's not what I'm getting at. What I mean is, have you ever met a hollow kind enough…unselfish enough to care for a kid?"

"Of course not. A hollow can't afford to concern himself with anyone else. We all become that way, it may not be by choice, it is simply the nature of the world we live in."

"Yeah," Grimmjow agreed, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back against the wall. He looked at Ulquiorra out of the corner of his eye. "And what do you think hollows do to a kid if it survives long enough to be born?"

Again, Ulquiorra was silent, preferring not to answer Grimmjow's question.

"What would any hollow in their right mind do in that situation, given such a burden, such a weakness?"

No response.

"What would you do, if not for Aizen?"

"That's enough, Grimmjow."

_Kill it. Eat it._ The words, though unspoken, hung in the air.

"Just what are you suggesting?" asked Ulquiorra in barely more than a whisper, "That I get rid of it?"

"It would be no great loss to anyone if there were…an accident."

He was right, of course. About everything. Surely Aizen wouldn't mind. After all, the child wasn't his. Then again, they were _not _hollows. They were arrancar. They were of a higher power, a higher intelligence. Ulquiorra stood up.

"Killing…senseless violence. It's all you know, isn't it Grimmjow?"

"Can you really blame me?" Grimmjow growled, getting to his feet as well, "You can stick your nose up at me, you haughty, self-righteous little prick, but who's more despicable? Me, who kills on instinct, or you who kills on orders."

Ulquiorra noticed that their surroundings were strangely quiet. The pitter-patter of rain was gone and the moonlight shone on the white sand once again. Grimmjow noticed as well and eagerly stepped out.

"Fuck it! What do I care? It's only advice, Ulquiorra. Take it or leave it." He began walking away, back in the direction of Las Noches. He seemed to have given up on their fight, realizing that he had spoiled his rare good deed and perhaps his whole motive for seeking out Ulquiorra in the first place. Ulquiorra followed after the man, deciding it would be best for him to return as well.

They walked in silence, until the white walls of Las Noches rose up before them. And then…

"We should do this again. I wouldn't mind killin' Nnoitora for you," said Grimmjow, smiling a bit. Of course, Grimmjow was only making a joke, more to himself if anyone, and he wouldn't expect Ulquiorra to respond to such a thing. Ulquiorra decided, that for no reason, he would indulge Grimmjow just this once.

"Disgusting," Ulquiorra replied, "Make it Szayel, then we'll talk."

Grimmjow stopped in his tracks, Ulquiorra's comment catching him off-guard. He soon recovered, regaining his stride and catching up once again.

"I never knew you had such fine taste."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: I thought it would make for a nice scene to put them together in the rain. After all, everyone knows cats hate water and bats don't fly in the rain.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: In my experience, I find that trying to explain the mpreg makes the story really awkward. In case you haven't noticed, mpreg is completely natural in this fic. Why not? They're not really human so who says it can't work?

Chapter 7

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Their time spent together as a group had taught the espada many things. The each liked to think that they knew the others inside and out; their characters, their habits, their sublet nuances that made them who they were.

Of them all, Grimmjow was perhaps the easiest to read, A man who always wore his emotions like the clothes on his back. He was rash, foolish, and a bid sadistic. The chains of becoming a loyal espada barely controlled him. Only his unwavering code of honor kept him at bay. His actions were almost always predictable.

However, equally predictable was the man who sat across the table from him. Opposite of Grimmjow in nearly every respect, those who knew him little would think him an expert at hiding his emotions, those who knew him well…or as well as possible…would know that he actually had no emotions. He was completely by-the-book. Any bending of the rules was unacceptable.

And so, the other eight espada had much to be curious about after learning that the two were to be mated. There had never been a more unlikely pair in Las Noches. Were their trysts completely physical? Or was there something more going on that the rest of them had never noticed?

Stark had to admit to some confusion. It seemed he wasn't alone. Barigon and Harribel stared down the table with disapproving eyes. Szayel and Nnoitora exchanged meaningful looks. Even Gin, who had joined them today and was present behind Aizen's throne, couldn't seem to hold in his laughter.

In all honesty, the painted picture wasn't all that different from any previous meeting. Often, they would gather at this table while Aizen spoke to them at length about matters of great importance, and most of the espada would listen with mild interest. Only one espada would always listen intently, and only one espada had the tendency to fall asleep.

Except today something rather odd had happened.

Sitting in the chairs nearest to Aizen, Grimmjow and Ulquiorra couldn't escape the notice of the rest of the espada. Today, Grimmjow sat strait in his chair, his eyes fixed on Aizen and his hands folded neatly in front of him as he took in the rather long list of orders he had been given. The attitude, the annoyance, the swagger… were all gone from him.

Across from Grimmjow, Ulquiorra didn't seem to realize or care that he was being one-upped. In fact, he wasn't realizing anything. He was slumped in his chair, his head resting in his hand and his eyes closed. He hadn't moved or made a sound the entire meeting. If Stark hadn't known the fourth espada better…well he'd say the man was sleeping.

The whole situation was quite ridiculous…quite backwards. Aizen had paid Ulquiorra no attention, as if this was the norm, and had concentrated solely on Grimmjow.

Finally, Aizen stood up. The meeting was adjourned. The espada began to leave one by one, but not before letting out some vicious comments.

"Look who's the golden boy now!" sniggered Nnoitora, shoving Grimmjow as he passed.

"Just what have you done to deserve Aizen's attention?" Harribel said to Grimmjow quietly but condescendingly.

"A sign of the apocalypse," muttered Zomari as he stood up. Grimmjow, uncharacteristically, didn't rise to any of their taunts.

The room was nearly empty. As Stark was about to leave he looked to Ulquiorra, who had still not moved. He figured it was his duty to wake Ulquiorra who always sat in the chair next to him. He reached out his hand, thinking to gently shake him.

Someone slapped his hand away. Stark turned to look at Grimmjow, who had come up behind them. He looked irritated.

"Don't you know he doesn't like to be touched?" Grimmjow growled at Stark. Of course, everyone knew about Ulquiorra's hatred for being touched by anyone he deemed 'trash'. Surely Stark didn't fall into that category. He was only attempting to be nice. But Grimmjow was Ulquiorra's mate. Perhaps he was only being possessive.

Grimmjow fixed Stark with a glare. He lifted a foot and kicked over Ulquiorra's chair.

_Or not._

The fourth espada picked himself up off the ground. Although his face was blank, he was unmistakably embarrassed.

"A tap on the shoulder would have been sufficient," he told Grimmjow coolly.

"Don't nod off in the first place then," returned Grimmjow.

Ulquiorra had opened his mouth to say something more, but then thought better of it after noticing Stark. The room became distinctly chilly, and Stark suddenly had the feeling that he was intruding upon something private. He had thought to maybe fill in Ulquiorra on what he had missed, but now that didn't seem to be a very violent-free idea. He hated the thought of starting a fight.

He put on his usual bored expression and proceeded to leave. As the door shut behind him, he glanced back…

…and could have sworn he saw them embrace.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ulquiorra easily broke free of Grimmjow's grasp. He turned away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He had not expected to be kissed by the sixth espada, and certainly not in front of another arrancar.

"What were you trying to prove to him?" Ulquiorra asked, attempting to make sense of Grimmjow's bizarre behavior, "That I'm yours?" It was almost ridiculous. As if he would ever willingly become another espada's property.

"Don't make up stupid shit," was Grimmjow's reply. Ulquiorra followed him to the door.

"Is Aizen disappointed with me?" he said suddenly. Lately the man hadn't spared him so much as a glance and he found he really wanted to know what the problem was. The sexta would be able to tell him. No one else spent more time with Aizen than he did these days.

"How the fuck should I know?" responded Grimmjow. The sixth espada let out a frustrated sigh. "Probably- why else would he just give your job away?"

"Why, indeed," Ulquiorra hissed, not wanting to be reminded of his apparent lack of assignments, "My work is impeccable."

"Then maybe he's just concerned," Grimmjow suggested. He must have been aware of how absurd it sounded as the words left his mouth. To think Aizen was capable of any empathetic emotion was just laughable. He shook his head roughly. "Look, Ulquiorra, I'd really like to stay and help you figure out your little quarrel with Aizen, but I've got shit to do."

"…Of course," said Ulquiorra tersely. Why bother dragging someone else into his personal problems? The cat would stay outside where he belonged.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ulquiorra all but stumbled into his dark room, shutting and locking the newly replaced door behind him. The bed had never looked so inviting. Instead he rushed to the sink, his head bent over the bowl and knuckles white as he gripped the sides. Completely nauseated, he willed himself to breathe deeply until the unpleasant feeling passed.

Since he was alone, since no one was watching, he allowed a low groan to escape his lips. Although he was never the type to wallow in self-pity, he had to admit that he had never felt quite so terrible before. Feeling weak and sick all the time was just…foreign. And of course with his high speed regeneration he was never forced to endure any pain for very long.

He grit his teeth as he attempted to massage the ache in his side. Every day, something new was ailing him, yet, surrounded by his fellow arrancar, he had no choice but bear it with an impassive expression. He was beginning to think he had sorely overestimated his own tolerance.

His hand moved from his side, to slide lightly over his belly. Although it wasn't horribly obvious, he would catch the others staring from time to time. His tight-fitting jacket, which didn't much cover his midsection in the first place, was needing to be replaced. His hakama had to be tied lower than usual on his hips to accommodate the slight expansion.

He still hadn't quite come to terms with what was happening to him. In the beginning, he was able to brush it off entirely. Then, as it began affecting his health he started thinking of it as some kind of parasite. Now that the pregnancy was becoming visible, there was little more he could do to convince himself that there was nothing going on.

…That this wasn't a living, growing thing.

…That this wasn't _Grimmjow's_ living, growing thing.

Mind overcome, he turned on the water and cleaned the taste of bile from his tongue. He splashed more into his face, as if the cold liquid could cure his predicament.

Panting, he raised his head and looked in the mirror. Green eyes stared back at him, frustrated, confused…maybe even frightened? His fingertips reached out to touch those eyes in the glass. He didn't like the way they looked at all.

Crack

Too much pressure had caused the mirror to shatter. Ulquiorra withdrew his hand, feeling shards of glass embedded in the skin. Warm blood trickled all the way down his arm.

He had made up his mind. Ever since their conversation in the rain, Ulquiorra hadn't given Grimmjow's "advice" a second thought…until now. This _child_ was destroying him, inside and out, body and mind. He unsheathed his sword. He could only hope that the sharks of Las Noches wouldn't go into a frenzy over his spilled blood.

Suddenly there was a knock on his door.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

_Aizen's throne…plain as ever…just a simple chair…but untouchable to everyone but Aizen himself._

_Just a simple chair…but the things it stood for were simple as well._

_Power, dominance, and complete control over the Hueco Mundo were just a few of the wishes it could grant. _

_Grimmjow found himself kneeling before that chair like always. He couldn't remember if this was a day were he voluntarily got on his knees or if he had been forced to do it. Then again, it didn't matter at this point anyway. _

_Grimmjow glanced to his right. Ulquiorra knelt next to him, his eyes on the floor. Black hair, longer and more unkempt than he remembered, hung in his face. He was thin, his skin was a deathly color, and large, dark circles had formed under his eyes. He looked as though he was still recovering from some long illness. _

"_You two have done well," Aizen was saying. Grimmjow raised his eyes to look at the man seated on the throne. As always, that self-satisfied smirk was on his face as he stared down at his subordinates, quite obviously more pleased with himself than he was with them. What drew Grimmjow's gaze the most, however, were Aizen's hands as they gently caressed blue hair. _

_A __**child's **__blue hair._

_Aizen held the child on his lap as his fingers languidly explored every inch of the tiny body, as if inspecting it for faults. The kid only giggled, turning wide, blue eyes to Aizen and all too happy at the attention. _

"_Perfect…" commented Aizen, "Absolutely perfect." He stood up, taking the child with him. His face became serious. "It seems that I no longer have a use for either of you," he said, addressing the two espada once more. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra both stared at him, confused. No one said a word._

_Then Grimmjow blinked. When he opened his eyes, Ulquiorra's mouth was open in shock. No one had moved and yet…Ulquiorra was impaled on Aizen's zanpakuto, the blade piercing him through the chest._

_The child laughed at the stunned expression on Ulquiorra's face._

_Aizen removed the sword and Ulquiorra slumped to the ground, clutching at his chest and drawing in broken breaths. The shinigami turned to Grimmjow slowly._

"_Your turn."_

_Grimmjow's heart thumped rapidly. He backed away, knowing full well he was no match for Aizen. He had never been so scared in his life. His only chance was to run._

_Something caught his ankle. He looked down to see Ulquiorra, a crimson pool spreading around him. He was barely alive._

"_Don't you dare…disobey…Aizen-sama," he choked, blood dribbling from his lips. _

_The sight would haunt him. He didn't even notice Aizen's steel meet his flesh. In the background…a child's laughter. _

Grimmjow woke suddenly. He was drenched in sweat and his heart was still pounding. It had been a very vivid dream. Images still swam in his head and it took him a long moment to return fully to reality.

Dreams…nightmares…he never paid them much attention. It was too easy to just roll over and go back to sleep. But this was different. This was a nightmare not at all outside the realm of possibility.

Grimmjow – all of them actually – were here on borrowed time, waiting for the day Aizen would replace them with a stronger arrancar. What was the man hoping to accomplish with him and Ulquiorra? He couldn't help but feel he was dancing in the palm of Aizen's hand.

He was trapped. He was part of something he never wanted to be a part of. He couldn't believe he ever let that the damn fourth espada talk him into this. No…that was a lie. Ulquiorra hadn't talked him into it at all. All he did was approach Grimmjow when they were both horny as hell and beg him for a fuck. No hollow could have refused the promise of Ulquiorra's tight ass…

Or the chance to taste those colorless lips…or hold that forbidden body. Maybe have those cold eyes gaze at you longingly…or have his voice, rather than bark out orders, moan and gasp and encourage you to your climax.

He needed to talk with Ulquiorra and convince him to get rid of their little problem. If he was nice about it, maybe they could still fuck.

On the other hand, maybe the fucking should come first.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N:Anyone got a good baby name?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So I was rewatching bleach the other day and I was on the ep where those lame arrancar steal the fake hougyoku and Ulquiorra "dies" and it got me thinking…

Does Aizen have his sword take the form of Ulquiorra when no one's around? I mean, it could have been any of the espada right? It's a little creepy, im just saying.

Chapter 8

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The knock was there again, firm, but not demanding. His original plan had been to ignore it, because surely they had the wrong door. The person persisted. Ulquiorra lowered his sword, narrowing his eyes. Who possibly had the nerve to disturb him at this hour? He never had visitors, all the arrancar in Las Noches either being too frightened or too uninterested to knock on his door. An emergency perhaps? No, there was an established protocol for such occasions.

He walked over and opened it. The fourth espada was quite surprised to find that the person disturbing him was, in fact, not an arrancar…not even a hollow. His guest was none other than Aizen himself.

Murcielago slid from his hand and fell to the floor. Ulquiorra instinctively did what any arrancar, save for maybe Grimmjow - in all his idiocy - did when face to face with their lord: he averted his eyes and bowed.

"Aizen-sama," he began, only now finding his voice, "…for you to come all the way to my humble quarters…I am honored."

Aizen smiled that warm smile that often confused Ulquiorra, making him wonder if the Shinigami genuinely cared. He invited himself into the room. His fingers reached out to stroke his favorite espada's hair, winding the strands absently between them. Ulquiorra tried not to entertain thoughts that his gentleness would last or that perhaps his simple touches would progress into something more intimate...

"No need to be so formal, Ulquiorra," Aizen said, his words dripping like honey, "Please, take a seat." He motioned at a plain white chair; the only chair in the room. Ulquiorra hesitated.

"I believe it would be highly improper for me to sit while you-"

"Do I need to remind you of what happened last time we spoke privately?" asked Aizen, cutting him off smoothly.

"No, Aizen-sama." He had been hoping Aizen wouldn't bring that up, but now it seemed he was to finally be confronted about it. Ulquiorra sat awkwardly in the chair and waited for Aizen to speak again.

"How is Grimmjow?"

Ulquiorra held back his confusion. Of all the things Aizen could have inquired about, he wanted to know first and foremost…about Grimmjow? Amidst his bewilderment he also felt – dare he say it? – hurt?

Aizen, ever the mastermind, seemed to have anticipated Ulquiorra's reaction. He chuckled.

"I can sense your jealousy, Ulquiorra. Did you perhaps think that he had taken your place?"

_Yes…_

"If he can serve you better than I, Aizen-sama…I wouldn't begin to question your judgment." He must have given a good answer, for Aizen looked pleased. His eyes flashed with amusement.

"Then allow me to rephrase my question," Aizen said, "How is Grimmjow _treating you?_"

"I'm afraid I'm woefully ignorant on how mated hollows act towards their partners. Is there a specific behavior he should be engaging in?" Ulquiorra answered, a little more than uncomfortably. He realized he was dodging the question, but the conversation had already become far too personal for his liking.

"And the baby?" continued Aizen, his eyes glancing over Ulquiorra's body. Ulquiorra shifted slightly in his chair.

"I…"

Aizen leaned in close and the fourth espada felt his breathing quicken. _He knows. He knows my reluctance to follow through on his strange assignment._

"What sort of nonsense has Grimmjow been telling you?" Aizen wondered, his voice soft as a whisper as he spoke into Ulquiorra's ear.

"We do not speak on a regular basis," Ulquiorra replied quickly, shying from Aizen a bit and ignoring the goose bumps that had formed on his skin, "And our conversations rarely revolve around things other than business."

For the most part, Ulquiorra was telling the truth. What did Aizen have to be suspicious of? And why was his and Grimmjow's relationship so important to Aizen in the first place? It was common knowledge that they generally _didn't_ get along.

"He is not worthy of you, Ulquiorra. You are my greatest creation; a cut above the rest of the arrancar. Of my many fine espada, you chose _him_, quite arguably the least competent of them all. Did you pity him? Or do you, perhaps, have feelings for him?" Aizen asked, his lips curling up at the corners.

He was making a joke right? It wasn't in good taste at all. For Aizen to ask Ulquiorra that question…well, it was rather like asking a fork if it had feelings for a spoon. It was impossible in a number of ways. First off, a hollow rarely possessed the proper emotional depth to "have feelings" for another, and even if Ulquiorra did (how ridiculous) they certainly wouldn't be feelings for Grimmjow. The only feeling that Ulquiorrra was aware that he possessed, was his complete devotion to Aizen…both his cause and the man himself.

"Neither, Aizen-sama. He has a…pleasing physique," the fourth espada admitted, "It is as you said. He is nothing. He is trash; a stain tarnishing our ideal future."

Aizen seemed content again.

"Then if I were to order you to kill him…" he posed, finally drawing Ulquiorra into an ultimatum. And now Ulquiorra understood. Aizen wanted to make sure he hadn't become compromised; that there wouldn't be any conflicting loyalties. Ulquiorra had glanced over the thought originally because it was far too absurd. Perhaps the world where Aizen was from was prone to such situations arising.

"If that is what you wish, Aizen-sama, it will be done."

"Excellent," Aizen purred the smile still upon his handsome features. Ulquiorra vaguely wonder what was excellent: the fact that Grimmjow would die or the fact that Ulquiorra was willing to do it. Aizen turned toward the door, preparing to take his leave.

"But it won't do to lose him now. Not while he's being so obedient," Aizen finally added with a chuckle. Ulquiorra was suddenly flooded with…relief? He wasn't sure.

"I know you are eager to serve me, Ulquiorra. However, I think it best that you stay within the Hueco Mundo from now on. As such, I am putting you in charge of more…domestic affairs.

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

"Now, it seems we have another visitor."

A second later, Ulquiorra also felt the approach of another's reiatsu. Someone else's knuckles rapped on his door.

"Hey! You in there? I need to talk to you for a sec," Grimmjow said from the other side. Ulquiorra looked toward Aizen, silently asking if he should open the door. Aizen held up a hand, telling him to wait. "C'mon, don't be such a dick. It won't take long." Aizen strode forward and opened the door. Grimmjow, who had been preparing to give a well-rehearsed speech, stood frozen, his face morphing into an expression that clearly said:

S_hit!_

"I'll just come back later," Grimmjow muttered after recovering. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned around.

"Please, Grimmjow, say what you need to say," Aizen pressed, his reiatsu flaring. Grimmjow tensed as the air around him became heavy.

"It's not important."

"I insist."

Whether Grimmjow didn't want to answer or whether he was physically incapable at the moment, he did not utter another word. His eyes darted between Ulquiorra and Aizen, no doubt wondering what they had been talking about.

Grimmjow was spared by the arrival of the other two shinigami. They came striding up the hall with purpose and stopped in front of Aizen. Aizen seemed to have been expecting them, and all at once, his little power game with Grimmjow was finished.

"The time for copulation has passed, Grimmjow. You have no need to enter Ulquiorra's quarters unless given permission by myself, Gin, or Tousen," he said, making it clear that further fraternization was prohibited. Polite as always, but one could not mistake icyness in his voice. "Be on your way."

Grimmjow did not need to be told twice.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Only when the three shinigami were out of earshot of both the fourth and sixth espada did Gin voice his question.

"What are you hoping to achieve with those two? Going as far to become involved in their personal lives…it's not like you," said Gin. If Tousen had a problem with Gin's forwardness, he did not show it. It was likely that he was curious as well.

Aizen was not troubled in the slightest. He seemed all too happy to answer, as if he had been wondering when they would ask him about it.

"It is merely an experiment. After developing _hollowification_ and subsequently blurring the line between shinigami and hollow, it has been my goal to create the perfect arrancar. With the hougyoku we can come close, but that is it. Their masks always remain."

"So you think that their child will be a pure arrancar?" Tousen interjected.

"Well," Aizen mused, slowing in his stride and becoming thoughtful, "It's quite simple. The life of a hollow starts with the corruption of a human soul. That soul evolves, becoming more and more powerful until eventually being able to tear off its protective mask. A child born of two arrancar would inherit all of that, thereby skipping the process." The three of them continued to walk, Aizen in front, with the other two following in contemplative silence. Aizen continued, "'Arrancar' would hardly be the proper term, gentlemen. If my prediction is correct, we will not have to remove the child's mask. He will be born completely without one."

"And Grimmjow is becoming a problem, I assume?" Tousen guessed.

"It is inevitable," Aizen responded, "Eventually he will decide that he hates me more than Ulquiorra. His betrayal has already been factored in. I just have to keep the same thing from happening to Ulquiorra."

"Even working together, I can't imagine they would be a threat to you," Gin remarked.

"I didn't come this far by taking risks, Gin." Aizen replied, but a smile dancing on his face nonetheless. "Now what is your urgent news?"

"A few straggling shinigami are attempting to drive us out of Karakura town," said Gin, "And I believe their names might be of some interest to you."

"Oh really? Who?"

"Urahara Kisuke and Kurosaki Isshin."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The moon was high this time of year in the Hueco Mundo, stuck in the middle of what one might call "the dry season" or "summer". In a world where the moon never set and the sun never rose, a night or day never really passed. Things like "seasons" were difficult to measure.

Ulquiorra and Yammy stood on the edge of a small canyon, surveying the surrounding area. Ulquiorra bent down, lifting a broken hollow mask from the fine sand. Yammy took in a deep breath, puffing out his chest and looking even more bulky than usual.

"I smell a Shinigami," Yammy said, "There musta been a fight between him and a hollow." Ulquiorra could feel it too from the remaining reiatsu.

"There was more than one hollow. Two adjuchas, now dead, and one arrancar," Ulquiorra corrected, "Also, someone opened a Garganta here."

"Then the Shinigami escaped? So why the hell does Aizen want us to investigate this?"

"No. It was the arrancar that fled," said Ulquiorra. He took a few steps until he reached the crevice. Below he could make out the dense underground forest of spindly trees. Staring for a moment, the darkness seemed to swallow him. He returned to his original position, ignoring the call of the foreboding trees. "The Shinigami is still here."

"There is talk of a Shinigami named Ashido that lives in the menos forest, but they say he is impossible to track down," Yammy offered. He looked toward the forest. "I'd rather not go in there. Have the menos snuff him out."

Ulquiorra was more interested in the arrancar. Why was he having two hollows guard his Garganta? He was tempted to try and reopen it and have Yami see where it led. Then again, it could be a trap. The only way Ulquiorra would get more information would be if the arrancar decided to show up again. Ulquiorra did not voice his thoughts aloud. There was no need for his speculations to be reported back to Aizen until they could be proved.

"We are done here," Ulquiorra said.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

By now, it should have been clear to Grimmjow that Ulquiorra was avoiding him. He never said a word to him when they passed each other, never looked his way when they sat at Aizen's table. Of course, it helped that Grimmjow's orders frequently had him stationed outside the Hueco Mundo.

And it didn't come as a surprise that Grimmjow tracked him down eventually. It certainly wasn't a coincidence that they crossed paths in one of Las Noches' more remote towers. He cornered Ulquiorra, trapping him against the wall with a hand on either side. His body language said he was pissed off as he looked down on the smaller arrancar. The difference in their height did not intimidate Ulquiorra in the slightest.

"I didn't sell you out if that is what this is about," said Ulquiorra calmly.

"I don't care about that," Grimmjow snapped, "It doesn't matter what you told him. It's enough to know that something is going on. And I'm going to tell you again: I think it would be best if junior here never saw the light of day."

It felt strange when Grimmjow would acknowledge the other life that he was host to. For a moment, Ulquiorra was at a loss. He too had been wondering what was truly the best course of action, but the fact was that Grimmjow couldn't afford to anger Aizen in any way.

"Grimmjow, if Aizen finds out -"

"Aizen can go to Hell," Grimmjow growled, getting in Ulquiorra's face, "You don't understand. This kid could ruin us."

"No Grimmjow, I'm afraid _you_ don't understand. If you go against Aizen it will mean your death."

"Fuck, tell me something new."

"…and I'll be the one to do it," Ulquiorra finished gravely. The look in his eyes said that there would be no hesitation when that day came. He had to remind himself that by no means was he protecting Grimmjow. "The child stays." He ducked under Grimmjow's arm and continued on his way. Grimmjow grabbed his wrist.

"I'm not done yet," said Grimmjow, his fingers tightening. Their eyes met again and Ulquiorra could tell what he wanted. He had been waiting for Grimmjow to ask it of him and he had always known he would spread his legs just as easily as the first time.

"I need to finish something. Then you can do what you like."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This chapter was meant to be up much sooner but then I went to Spain for a week. The good news is that the next chapter is already almost done ^^

Chapter 9

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

They had strayed far from the main castle, losing themselves in the maze-like catacombs of Las Noches. Here, neither moonlight nor false sunlight penetrated the dank, lonely corridors. The fancy, pure white halls of Aizen's coveted palace had morphed into decaying stone walls. These ruins, along with their inhabitants, were the last remaining testaments to the old days…the days before Aizen.

They had entered the realm of the Priveron Espada.

Grimmjow sulked in Ulquiorra's wake, ruminating over the past, over his own demotion, and thinking on just how close he came to this place.

"I'd hate to end up here," he said quietly with a shudder, speaking to no one in particular.

"You'd be _lucky_ to end up here, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra corrected, never missing a chance to remind Grimmjow how unimportant he was. Well he was fucking right so Grimmjow decided not to take the bait. They seemed to have been walking for hours. Now that the silence was broken, Grimmjow thought it would be a pity to waste it.

"So where are we going? What is it that you need to finish?"

"Arrancar 107, Gantenbainne Mosqueda," Ulquiorra answered, offering no further clarification. However, it was obvious that this man had earned a punishment.

"Thought he was dead. What'd he do?"

"He lost against one of the intruders and was later healed by a shinigami captain. He is suspected of being a shinigami sympathizer."

For a moment, Grimmjow said nothing, letting his irritation build.

"Just for that? A lot of us lost to the shinigami. _I_ lost to a shinigami and I'm still here," he finally retorted

"Yes, one wonders how you've managed to stay within the espada ranks for so long, despite your constant failure," Ulquiorra said calmly. Grimmjow's lip curled at the jab. "Grimmjow, if this is going to bother you, then I suggest you don't accompany me."

Grimmjow scowled deeply. He hated when Ulquiorra treated him like a kid…like he couldn't handle certain things. Grimmjow was aware of his own faults, how easily he angered and how he sometimes allowed his emotions to get the better of him, but with that also came a sense of pride and a sense of integrity – things that Ulquiorra was psychologically devoid of.

They came upon a circular room. The walls were lined with doors, each leading to the path of a disgraced espada. Before them was a large hole that no one had bothered to patch up…evidence of where Kurosaki and his friends had broken in. Grimmjow had paused for a moment, lost in thought, before realizing that Ulquiorra had continued, casually starting down one of the many identical corridors.

The farther they ventured, the heavier the destruction, but the living quarters, oddly, remained untouched. Grimmjow wondered if that was about to change.

"He's not here," stated Grimmjow, after taking a good look around, "Maybe he ran."

"That is unlikely," said Ulquiorra, "We will wait for him to return."

The sudden weariness in Ulquiorra's voice caught Grimmjow off-guard. He watched the smaller arrancar lean against the wall and shut his eyes. It was the third time Grimmjow had seen him purposely expose himself and show his weak side. It was unnerving to see the fourth espada acting this way.

After a few silent minutes, Grimmjow stepped closer. Ulquiorra's eyes remained shut and his breathing calm as if he had genuinely drifted into sleep. His eyelashes didn't even flutter when they were close enough to exchange breath. Since when had he become so trusting? Ulquiorra's lips, though closed, still looked soft and inviting, as did his pale neck with his collar partially unzipped.

Grimmjow began to wonder when he first started to desire Ulquiorra. For so long he had wanted only to fight him, but then it was easy to mistake hunger for battle and lust for another's body, and even easier to disguise the second using the first.

He claimed Ulquiorra's lips with his own, prying them apart with his tongue. When he elicited no response, he snaked his fingers through Ulquiorra's dark hair, deepening the kiss with one hand and drawing their bodies together with the other.

"There are cameras," Ulquiorra said, slightly breathless, when Grimmjow finally broke away.

"Who the hell wants to watch a has-been's room? I'm sure there are a helluva lot more interesting things going on," Grimmjow replied, equally breathless. He steered Ulquiorra to the small bed and dropped him on the mattress. For a brief moment, he considered what he was about to do on someone else's sheets, then he decided that, whatever happened today, Gantenbainne Mosqueda wouldn't be needing them any longer.

Ulquiorra did not willingly remove his own clothes, but after Grimmjow had done it for him, he willingly allowed the other man between his legs. Grimmjow noted how much his body had changed. He had always been thin, almost to the point of looking sickly, and even now he still looked unhealthy, but something was different. His hollow cheeks had filled out, making his face look much younger. His lips were fuller and his hair had an unusual sheen to it. Somehow he had become softer and more delicate both physically and with the way he handled himself. The only thing that remained unchanged was his eyes…those empty green pools of unknown depths.

Ulquiorra had been watching him stare. When Grimmjow became self-aware again, he descended back over his mate, suddenly overcome with the desire to mark his flawless skin. He bit Ulquiorra hard on the junction of his shoulder and neck and immediately decided that wasn't good enough. He moved higher, high enough so that when Ulquiorra would put his jacket back on, the mark would be above the collar.

Ulquiorra didn't stop him…didn't even flinch as Grimmjow bruised him. He did, however, notice that in their intricate dance of hate and tolerance, Grimmjow had just changed the tempo. Ulquiorra didn't miss a beat.

"You did not feel the need to do that the other two times we mated," he said. He did not sound disgusted. Nor did he sound pleased.

"'fucked'" corrected Grimmjow, "Mating is for lovers."

"Then I want to be your lover," replied Ulquiorra in all seriousness.

"You don't know what it means to be a lover." Grimmjow rejected. Anger flashed briefly in Ulquiorra's eyes but quickly dissipated into mild frustration.

Ulquiorra got up, and for a moment Grimmjow assumed that he was no longer interested in sex, but all he did was turn over and get on his hands and knees. Presented with this new view, Grimmjow's erection returned to full, aching hardness.

While Ulquiorra probably didn't want to become lovers for the…well, love…he certainly believed he was entitled to more than just a fuck.

And Grimmjow supposed he could give the man what he wanted just this once.

His hand started between Ulquiorra's shoulder blades and he slowly traced his finger down his spine, over the expanse of pale skin, right down to the curve of his backside. Ulquiorra inhaled sharply and arched his back with the motion of Grimmjow's finger. He obviously hadn't been expecting that. He glared at Grimmjow over his shoulder as if to tell him to quit fucking around.

Grimmjow, who was now kneeling behind Ulquiorra, suddenly leaned over him, reached over and invaded Ulquiorra's mouth with his fingers. Teeth immediately clamped on his digits, ready to crush them if they attempted to advance any further.

"Suck," commanded Grimmjow. Ulquiorra was not about to take orders. He tightened his jaw until he heard Grimmjow hiss in pain. Only then did he release and begin to wet Grimmjow's fingers with his warm tongue.

Grimmjow felt heat surge through his groin at the sensation. His body curled around Ulquiorra's and he was unable to still his undulating hips. He retracted his hand from Ulquiorra's mouth and put a finger to his entrance. Ulquiorra hardly reacted as Grimmjow slid in his fingers. After being penetrated without preparation, Grimmjow supposed this would be nothing.

Grimmjow thrust his fingers in and out with increasing depth and strength as he slowly watched Ulquiorra break down.

He didn't know what Ulquiorra did on his own, but it was quite obvious that he had never been stimulated to this point by another's hands. He gripped the sheets hard, burying his face in them and muffling his voice.

Grimmjow was poised to enter, his hands on Ulquiorra's slender hips. Ulquiorra breathed harshly in anticipation, his ragged panting proof of his arousal. When Grimmjow slid in, he pushed back, drawing him deeper into his body. Grimmjow suddenly had an odd thought.

"When I do this to you, do you pretend I'm someone else?" asked the sixth espada. _Aizen maybe?_ But he didn't want to get too personal.

Ulquiorra let out a strange sound that could very well have been derisive laughter. When he realized the other man was serious he looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"Not this time."

His voice was hoarse and his entire body shook with need, reminding Grimmjow that now wasn't the best time for talking. Grimmjow pushed the thought from his head and concentrated on the heat enveloping his member.

Ulquiorra sighed, completely at Grimmjow's mercy as the other man began shallow thrusts, teasing his mate until his body was shamelessly begging for release. Grimmjow savored the man beneath him, relishing the body writhing, panting, and constricting pleasurably around his cock.

Grimmjow acknowledged that he was being considerably more gentle with Ulquiorra than the past few times they'd had sex and it was certainly paying off. In pain, Ulquiorra would only smother his emotions and mask any painful facial expression. Now, hesitantly trusting and overcome with feelings of ecstasy, he was showing his absolute most vulnerable side. His hair was tousled, his face was flushed, and his eyes were heavy with uncensored lust. Grimmjow let the deeper feelings long hidden away bubble up in his stomach as he reached his climax. He spasmed, his entire body tensing at the same time as Ulquiorra let loose a guttural moan, cumming harshly and squeezing Grimmjow tighter than he ever imagined.

Somehow, Grimmjow wished to let Ulqiuorra know that he had never had such an explosive orgasm, but he found himself unable to speak. He laid over Ulquiorra's back, lips brushing the soft skin of his nape and not caring about how hot their bodies were, pressed together and slick with sweat.

If someone would have asked, he would have denied that they were cuddling. His hands caressed Uqluiorra's body absently after they both had collapsed with exhaustion. Ulquiorra reciprocated the embrace, going weak in Grimmjow's arms. The moment was decidedly more tender that Grimmjow had anticipated. Only when Grimmjow's hands came to rest on Ulquiorra's slightly swollen abdomen did the smaller arrancar noticeably stiffen.

Of course, Ulquiorra had every reason to be wary of Grimmjow when their feelings conflicted concerning the helpless life within.

Then Grimmjow felt it; the small movement beneath his fingertips that Ulquiorra had undeniably been afraid of him discovering. In Grimmjow, it invoked a flurry of unfamiliar feelings.

Surprise…fear…awe…

Ulquiorra suddenly pushed Grimmjow's hands away and and broke their embrace. He was still panting as he glared at Grimmjow from the opposite end of the bed, a hand clutched over his middle. Grimmjow only stared, his face still relaying surprise and confusion.

"What did you expect? It has been 5 months, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra breathed, his voice involuntarily defensive.

"But you're still so tiny," Grimmjow said, slightly disbelieving. Certainly, Ulquiorra was pregnant, but he didn't look nearly as far along as he had just said. If Ulquiorra had been feeling _it _movefor a while, then there was a chance he had developed an attachment to _it_. Then, Grimmjow understood.

"Is this what made you want to keep it?" Grimmjow asked him quietly. He must have struck a nerve because Ulquiorra didn't give him an answer. Grimmjow continued, hoping to press more buttons. "Maybe you like it…carrying my child inside you. Do you have silly little dreams of actually having a family?" Grimmjow was teasing him. They were goddamn hollows who didn't feel or share or love. They both knew this but Ulquiorra turned his eyes to the ground. When he spoke next his voice was monotone again, and he seemed uncaring towards what Grimmjow would think of him.

"Impossible," he replied. Then he fixed Grimmjow with a challenging stare. His voice softened to a whisper. "However, is it really such a horrible thing? Would I be wrong if I had feelings like that?"

The question came out of no where. Grimmjow decided that he really couldn't deal with this. _This _wasn't Ulquiorra. And he had yet to decide if he liked or hated the new man in front of him.

Silently, he and Ulquiorra got dressed, neither having anything further to say to the other. After that they waited for their target, and Grimmjow was resolute in what he had decided to do about the situation.

It was another long hour before they even felt Gantenbainne Mosqueda approaching. Smart man. He easily read their reiatsu and immediately hid his own, treading lightly, cautious of the two high level arracar he felt up ahead. Honorable man. He did not panic or run.

He was outside the door. Ulquiorra had taken a position to the left of it. Grimmjow mirrored him on the right. To anyone else it would seem as if Arrancar 107 would be walking straight into a death trap. Only Grimmjow knew better.

The former espada only had to take a single step into the room when there was a loud clash of metal. Right beneath his chin, Pantera was crossed with Murcielago. Gantenbainne's eyes widened. If not for Pantera, Murcielago would have taken his head clean off his shoulders. His eyes darted between Grimmjow and Ulquiorra.

"Go," said Grimmjow, "Leave Las Noches and don't come back." He motioned toward Ulquiorra. "I'll hold him off."

The former seventh espada stood completely still for a moment, perhaps still piecing together what was happening. He hesitated. It wasn't in him to run from a fight but it also wasn't in him to battle someone he was sure to lose to.

"Go!" repeated Grimmjow, louder this time. He stepped forward and blocked Ulquiorra's path. Gantenbainne inclined his head briefly in gratitude and used sonido to escape the scene.

Ulquiorra lowered his sword arm. His eyes had followed Gantenbainne but he made no effort to chase him. He didn't seemed shocked by Grimmjow's actions, nor did he seemed worried that his target had escaped. His green irises were blank as he sighed deeply.

"You're a fool, Grimmjow. Lofty morals will be the death of you."

"Morals?" spat Grimmjow, disgust clearly showing on his face, "I don't understand you, Ulquiorra. You can murder a comrade in cold blood, but you can't bring yourself to kill an unborn child?"

What would Ulquiorra tell him? That it's different? That he doesn't like unnecessary bloodshed? His secret was out and Grimmjow knew that no matter what Ulquiorra said, it would only be an excuse to cover up the fact that he felt something for his little spawn.

_Their spawn,_ Grimmjow reminded himself.

"I'm just following orders, Sexta," came the fourth espada's curt response.

"And I suppose that alone keeps your conscience clear."

"I am not selfish enough to live only to serve my conscience. I serve Aizen, Sexta, and if it wasn't already too late, I would advise you to do the same."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This chapter was not cooperating with me! I'm still not satisfied with it so it may change.

Chapter 10

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

As expected, Ulquiorra was summoned when news got out that Arrancar 107 had escaped. Grimmjow followed him to Aizen's throne room, ready to challenge their lord, and ready to accept his fate...whatever it may be.

It would have been perfect. It was like signing a resignation but then hoping to escape alive. He was prepared, but...

Ulquiorra screwed it up. Ulquiorra, the espada who did no wrong, knelt before Aizen...and lied.

"...I stood in Grimmjow's way and aided in Gantenbainne Mosqueda's escape. It was of my own will. I take full responsibility," Ulquiorra said effortlessly.

When Ulquiorra had finished, Aizen looked terribly saddened. The lie was obvious. Aizen took a moment to send Grimmjow a look that said the sixth espada wouldn't live long enough to let Ulquiorra take the fall for him again. He was dismissed immediately afterward.

Grimmjow trembled in anger as he stood alone in the hall. Why would Ulquiorra do that? What possible reason could he have behind such an obvious deception? He reluctantly soothed his reeling mind enough to listen to the voices beyond the door.

"It is something trivial, but this cannot happen again, Ulquiorra. One might begin to wonder who's side you are playing for. You know I will have to punish you for this."

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

"It is a shame. I did not want to mar your pretty face, but it seems I have no choice." Aizen snapped his fingers, perhaps summoning a few lowly arrancar to do the work that would dirty his own hands.

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

Silence ensued for a few long minutes and Grimmjow could only guess as to what was happening. Unfortunately his eavesdropping was interrupted by the espada he detested most.

"Something of interest going on in there?" cackled Nnoitora when he reached Grimmjow. He put his ear to the door in mock curiosity. "Number four getting an ass-beating on your behalf?"

Although Grimmjow knew he had stores of insults that would fit the situation perfectly, he chose to remain quiet in hopes that Nnoitora would get bored and leave.

"How did it feel to be inside him? Did he get on his knees and beg you to fuck him?"

"Something like that," Grimmjow drawled, "but you'll never really know, scumbag."

"Maybe I already know," the fifth espada hinted, his grin wide, "I'm waiting for the day that Aizen kicks the both of you. If he doesn't kill you, then you can count on me doing it. Don't worry, I'll make sure you watch while I slaughter Ulquiorra nice and slow, but not before I violate him in every possible way. Then, I'll come for you, and for dessert? Your little monstrosity will do perfectly, if someone else doesn't get him first."

"Whatever, Nnoitora. I don't know why you people think that threatening Ulquiorra somehow affects me, but by all means attempt to carry out your little fantasy. I _will _be watching. Only to see how far you get."

Why did he not have confidence in his own words? Why did he have the feeling that if Nnoitora did indeed pick a fight with Ulquiorra, the fourth espada's number wouldn't be able to save him this time? Grimmjow turned and walked away. He would find Ulquiorra again later. For now, he wished to be rid of the virus called Nnoitora.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Not an hour later Grimmjow came across his query. He found him in one of the castle's special rooms. One filled with artificial sunlight and strange pillars, now destroyed, but erected for seemingly no purpose in the first place. It was the same place Grimmjow had fought that fateful fight with Kurosaki Ichigo. But Ulquiorra couldn't have known that.

The dark haired man stood with his back to Grimmjow, arms at his sides and staring up at the false sun. It was an odd sight, something Grimmjow never expected to find Ulquiorra doing. It made him wonder if the fourth espada perhaps yearned for true sunlight as much as he did.

Grimmjow stopped a few paces behind Ulquiorra. The other man didn't bother to turn around.

"I was ready to take that punishment. Why the hell did you tell him that bull-shit?" Grimmjow demanded angrily.

"I told you that another step out of line and he would see you executed. None of the other arrancar are competent enough to take your place. I am taking matters into my own hands, Grimmjow." His complete calm was irritating.

"What the hell is wrong with you? A few months ago you wouldn't have thought twice about condemning me to death. I sure as hell wouldn't have done the same for you." Grimmjow could not ever, _ever, _imagine himself facing Aizen's wrath for Ulquiorra's sake.

"No," Ulquiorra said slowly, "You would have...if you'd been given the chance." He turned, fixing challenging eyes on Grimmjow. The sixth espada was immediately keen to the deep gash on Ulquiorra's right cheek, his split lip and his blackened eye. The various colors contrasted sharply with his pale skin. "It is annoying, and certainly inconvenient, but you are a better man than you let on."

Grimmjow couldn't tell if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult. In this world, what was the benefit of being a "better man"? He watched a droplet of blood trail down Ulquiorra's porcelain cheek and stain his white collar on impact.

"You're bleeding," Grimmjow said offhandedly, as if Ulquiorra needed reminding.

"Of course. Aizen, himself, gave me these wounds. I cannot heal them, they are a symbol of my disobedience."

_Your disobedience _was what he meant to say.

"We'll your face looks like shit, I'm just saying." Grimmjow felt a strange excitement in the pit of his stomach. The sight of Ulquiorra's blood was just so...alluring.

He grabbed Ulquiorra's face between his palms. Ulquiorra hardly startled. Perhaps he too acknowledged that Grimmjow had earned the right to touch him without preamble.

"Grimmjow...what-" the rest of his sentence became merely an exhale as Grimmjow leaned in and traced his tongue over the open cut above his jaw. He lapped up the blood slowly and languidly, relishing the coppery taste. He moved on to Ulquiorra's busted lip, licking in a most cat-like fashion, until Ulquiorra was drawing him into a proper kiss.

"Stop enjoying it," growled Grimmjow.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ulquiorra didn't know when he had become the sort of man to let Grimmjow touch him whenever he pleased. He was disturbed by the thought that, during a time like this, where he completely disregarded his surroundings, Grimmjow could have landed a serious hit, perhaps even taken him down many times now.

Grimmjow began zealously sucking the abrasions on his neck, the ones, Ulquiorra remembered, that were entirely his doing. The fourth espada found himself closing his eyes and tentatively offering up more of his skin to Grimmjow. Grimmjow's hands found his sides and began to wander.

With the sudden sound of static, Ulquiorra disappeared and reappeared a few yards away, his stare accusatory.

"Fine," responded Grimmjow, knowing exactly what he had done wrong, "I won't touch you there."

Then Grimmjow realized what the real problem was. A bout of whooping laughter from the other end of the room alerted him to it.

Nnoitora and Szayel.

"Thought I smelled something," Grimmjow said, loud enough for them to hear. Nnoitora's scythe was at his throat a moment later.

"Hear us out," Nnoitora said as he circled the pair like the hungry predator that he was.

"I've already heard more of your voice than I can take," Grimmjow spat. Beside him, Ulquiorra looked thoroughly bored. Petty verbal squabbles weren't exactly his idea of entertainment.

"What business do you have with us?" the fourth espada asked.

"Since you've fallen from favor, we think that now's a prime time to rough up the two of you," Nnoitora responded gleefully, "And what's more, Aizen won't even care."

"To what end?" Ulquiorra asked, "What purpose would "roughing us up" serve?"

Szayel remained impassive, but Nnoitora grinned a wide, sadistic grin and pointed a finger at Ulquiorra.

"I just want you to show me a look of anguish."

"How convenient. All he has to do is look at your face," Grimmjow sneered.

Their banter faded into meaningless noise as Ulquiorra suddenly noticed that something was off about Szayel. He stood there...smiling...flickering.

_An illusion? _

Then Ulquiorra heard it, a single command uttered from an arrancar's mouth that can only mean one thing.

"Sip."

A mist filled the room, thick and heavy. Ulquiorra's eyes widened and he reacted just in time to dodge one of Szayel's tentacle-like wings. He knew if those wings managed to swallow him up, Szayel would have control of him via voodoo doll. Already weakened, Ulquiorra knew then and there that he wouldn't be able to beat Szayel in his released state without releasing as well. He looked over to where the other two were fighting. He couldn't count on Grimmjow winning against Nnoitora. If things continued like this he would end up facing them both at the same time.

He had already saved Grimmjow's life once today. With luck the man would have a few more of his nine lives left because Ulquiorra had decided to do something that he had never before done during a battle.

He was going to flee.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow stood, panting. Nnoitora was a few feet away, looking smug. Szayel came up behind him.

"Seems like Ulquiorra has left you hanging. How unfortunate. What are you going to do now? You are outnumbered and outmatched," Szayel informed.

"Unfortunate? He would have only gotten in my way," Grimmjow said while smirking, "Besides, now we don't have to worry about breaking the rules."

"How delightful," Szayel replied. Nnoitora charged.

"Grind, Pantera."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"How did you get in here?" Grimmjow asked the moment he entered his dark room. Ulquiorra stepped from the shadows, but gave Grimmjow no answer. He had been waiting for Grimmjow to return. He took in the man's appearance. Worn and sweaty, with eyes still crazed from his fight, but not seriously injured. "Is this where you have been hiding?" Grimmjow continued.

Again, Ulquiorra preferred not to answer such a ridiculous question, no matter how close to the truth it came. It should have been unimportant that Grimmjow thought his act cowardly, but for some reason it was still irksome.

"It was you who provoked them, Grimmjow. And I can't hope to defeat them in my current state. I thought that would have been obvious."

"You're always looking down on me, Ulquiorra. Have a little more faith. I could tell you that Nnoitora and Szayel are lying unconscious back there in the sand after I gave them a thorough ass kicking, but you probably wouldn't believe me."

"You lie," said Ulquiorra. Nnoitora and Szayel were a proficient team. If Grimmjow could hold his own against the both of them, it would mean his power had risen to a frightening level. Dangerously close to his own at full strength.

"Stick around a little longer next time and see for yourself. Not all of us have been siting around idle these past few months," Grimmjow replied darkly.

Certainly, Grimmjow was the type to boast and glorify himself. Ulquiorra would never be sure of how much truth was in his words, but he got the sickening feeling that the fifth and eighth espada _had_ been defeated by Grimmjow, and that Pantera had tasted their blood.

"You know, Ulquiorra, that this wouldn't be a problem if you had just done the deed in the first place," Grimmjow said, his voice harsh, "Kill or be killed, Ulquiorra, and from what happened today, it seems your headed for the latter. I don't understand why you're defending this child so much. His only destiny is a life of servitude under Aizen. He will be a puppet. A pawn. He will come to hate us, maybe even kill us someday."

Grimmjow brought up some good points, but none that Ulquiorra hadn't already considered. Instead, something else that Grimmjow had said resonated with him.

"'He'?" Ulquiorra questioned softly after a moment of quiet consideration,"'He'..." he said again, quietly, "I, too, think it will be a 'he', Grimmjow."

"That's not the point-"

"Don't deny that you're not the slightest bit curious," Ulquiorra said, talking over him. "Will he have my face?" his hand went to Grimmjow's face where he slowly traced his fingers down his nose and over his lips, "Or will he have yours?" He fisted his hand in Grimmjow's spikes, "Will he have my hair, or yours? What about his eyes?" Ulquiorra's hand now rested on Grimmjow's bare chest. "And perhaps most intriguing, and no doubt Aizen's biggest interest, will he have my powers, yours, or will he surpass the both of us?"

"I try not to think about the possibility of there being two of you," Grimmjow answered. He took hold of the hand that was on his chest, having become increasingly fidgety under Ulquiorra's touches. "Instead, I'll think about the possibility of you warming my bed tonight."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

That night Ulquiorra stayed in Grimmjow's room. He was unsure if by doing so he was breaking the rules, but Aizen had never expressly forbid him from entering Grimmjow's quarters.

Once again, he found himself beneath Grimmjow's hard body, heat engulfing him. He thought about how, had he not been ordered, he would never have been on the receiving end of sex. He wondered again, why he had picked Grimmjow. Maybe, back then, he had somehow known they would have the most to gain from working together. Then again, he might have simply found Grimmjow the most attractive.

He was surprised when he realized that he did not regret his choice, even now. There was something right to it all. He suddenly didn't mind if Grimmjow became stronger than him in the future. Instead of worrying him, the thought put him at ease. Somehow, he felt that Grimmjow belonged to him and the stronger he became, the more beneficial it would be.

Ulquiorra was woken up more than once that night due to pain. He sat on the side of the bed, hunched with his arms around his middle as he waited for the unpleasant cramping to pass. After nearly an hour, he felt Grimmjow stir behind him.

"Hey..." he said, voice still drunk with sleep as he laid a hand on Ulquiorra's tense shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Ulquiorra replied, shrugging him off.

"Come to bed then," Grimmjow mumbled. Ulquiorra reluctantly returned to lying down. When he did so, Grimmjow trapped him in his arms and dragged him close.

"Grimmjow..." warned Ulquiorra. The other man's chest was pressed to his back. His hands were on his belly.

"Relax will ya? I ain't gonna bite...tonight," Grimmjow breathed, already half asleep. Ulquiorra exhaled and relaxed into Grimmjow's warmth. Not long after, the painful contractions ceased and Ulquiorra finally managed to close his eyes.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: This chap was all about Ulquiorra realizing his dependence on Grimmjow, but also developing a new respect for him. yay


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I guess I won't be changing the last chapter since everyone liked it so much. It was a little too sweet for my taste. Even though that is where the story is eventually headed, in my opinion you gotta finish your vegetables before you can have dessert.

I'm starting something new since a lot of reviewers were excited about what was happening in the first chapter. The parts in **bold** are part of a different timeline.

Chapter 11

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**The two adjunchas came to the edge of the menos forest, venturing farther than usual to observe the moonlight creeping down from the surface. Today they were lax in their duties, enjoying the finer weather and leaving their flock of menos unguarded. They were rather hungry and a strange energy tickling their senses had brought them to this particular moonlit clearing.**

"**What do you suppose it is?" the smaller asked the larger. His voice was like a hiss and his body was long and reptile-like. The larger, more human-looking adjunchas flexed his claws, uncertain, as he stared at the odd creature.**

"**It looks like...a baby," he whispered. The little creature had not yet noticed them and was busy watching an insect. Small, blue cat ears were pricked in the direction of his insect-prey and he readied himself to pounce, but he seemed too young to be able to do much. Moments before he had been amusing himself in the sand, making small noises of content. "He smells like a hollow, but he has no mask," the adjunchas continued, "His reiatsu is so weak..."**

"**It doesn't matter. We can still eat it, right?" his partner said. He started for the kid, and for a moment the larger adjunchas hesitated to stop him, getting a sudden bad feeling. Baby or not, humanoid hollows were extremely hard to kill. **

"**Heh," said the snake-like adjunchas as he approached the helpless thing, "I guess someone wandered a little too far from the nest."**

"**Indeed," came a low voice over-head. Both adjunchas looked up suddenly to see the hollow perched in one of the trees. Had he been there the entire time? His appearance was demonic, with talons, horns, and large black wings. Dark fur covered his arms and lower body. His cold, green, and most importantly, maskless, eyes bore into them. "You have wandered right into my trap."**

"**We saw it first, arrancar, go find your own," hissed the first adjunchas. He was confident that he and his partner could take on this newcomer. **

"**Wait," the second admonished his friend. He turned to the man in the tree. "Is this your cub, arrancar?" The resemblance was slight, if any, but the word 'trap' had tipped him off. He had never seen an infant hollow in his entire life and his curiosity got the better of him.**

"**He is," confirmed the man. There was a moment were the two of them regarded each other, then, without warning, the arrancar swooped down and sliced the smaller adjunchas in half with his bare hand. Through the fountain of blood, the arrancar emerged, wings spread wide and an absolutely feral look in his eyes. **

"**You can run now," he suggested to the remaining adjunchas. **

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"I suppose I don't mind if you want to show up naked, you might get some funny looks though," Grimmjow said to the figure still in his bed. He'd spent the night with Ulquiorra once before, after the first time they fucked, but the other man had already left when he'd woken up.

Today the experience was surreal. Ulquiorra sat up, the blankets hiding his form. He looked kinda good, with his hair in tangles like that. He blinked slowly, eyes still heavy with sleep. Grimmjow found himself thinking that he wouldn't mind if Ulquiorra became a permanent addition to his room.

"I'm not going, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said simply.

"Look, I don't want to listen to Aizen ramble either, but I've accepted that sometimes, as espada, we have to do shit we hate."

"There is little point to me going. I am hardly an espada anymore. And after yesterday's disgrace, I think it best I begin my temporary leave."

The words struck Grimmjow as odd and he stared at Ulquiorra. Since becoming an arrancar, all he'd ever wanted was to see Ulquiorra disgraced; prove that he, Grimmjow, was just as capable, just as powerful. In light of recent circumstances, victory was rather bittersweet.

"You can sit in my chair...if you want," Ulquiorra added after a few minutes of silence. Grimmjow had had enough. He marched back to the bed and slammed his hands down on the rumpled sheets. When he spoke his voice was low.

"I don't want you to give me your goddamn chair. When this is all over with, I'm going to take it from you. And your number. And anything else that I decide I want. You got that?" Grimmjow growled.

Instead of the expected reaction, a look of satisfaction played on Ulquiorra's face. Grimmjow raised his hand and got rid of it with a slap. Far from deterred, Ulquiorra's arms slid around Grimmjow's neck and he brought their lips close. Grimmjow could feel the other man's light breathing. He had the sudden desire to blow off the espada meeting all-together to take care of his morning wood.

"I don't have time for this!" Grimmjow said, frustrated. He disentangled himself and headed for the door. "Quit acting like you're dying, Ulquiorra." He slammed the door behind him.

Aizen's meeting had not yet started when Grimmjow arrived. Much to his delight, both the fifth and eighth espada were in attendance, and Grimmjow was only too pleased to be able to rub his victory in their faces.

"Wounds all healed?" Grimmjow asked rather loudly as he passed Nnoitora, "Your ego might take a little longer."

Nnoitora let out a vicious snarl and would have lashed out if Szayel had not grabbed his arm. The pink-haired man gave Grimmjow a sinister look.

"Where's your fuck buddy, Grimmjow? Is he too ashamed to show his face today?"

"I wouldn't know. After I told him how I beat the two of you senseless, he passed out laughing."

"Enjoy your luck while it lasts, Grimmjow," Szayel said, threateningly, "You won't be laughing for long."

"Says who?" Grimmjow challenged, "You're all bark and no bite."

Their conversation had attracted the rest of the group's attention. Grimmjow had known what he was starting and that the lower numbered espada were all extremely annoyed by him, but he couldn't bring himself to shut up when he was just so pissed off. Harribel had stood up, determined to break up the fight.

"Take your seat, Sexta," she said with a glare.

"Don't tell me what to do, woman," Grimmjow growled. At his words, the room became tense. A few days ago, he would have never thought to be so rude to the third espada, but after defeating Szayel and Nnoitora with such ease, he was eager to test his limits.

He heard the sound of a chair scraping on the floor and Harribel walked up to him.

"Know your place, Sexta, or I will teach it to you," she hissed. Grimmjow only smirked.

Aizen's entrance put an abrupt halt to any more backtalk. Harribel and Grimmjow reclaimed their chairs as Aizen sat down at the head of the table. His eyes drifted over the nine espada, lingering for a moment on Ulquiorra's empty chair.

"Death..." began Aizen, "Rebirth...The cycle that we are all too familiar with. A cycle that, for hollows, is most often marked by tragedy and suffering," Aizen smiled at this, "But not always." He turned to Grimmjow.

"Grimmjow," Aizen said. The sixth espada, reluctantly, gave the man his full attention. "Please remind Ulquiorra that the birth of an arrancar is a public event."

"Me?" tried Grimmjow in a rather weak attempt to get out of it. It earned him a few hard looks. Unfortunately, the fact that they were spending a rather abnormal amount of time in each others company was common knowledge by now. "Fine. I'll make sure he sends out invitations."

"I expect to be notified well ahead of time," Aizen said, ignoring Grimmjow's sarcasm, "I'm sure we would all like to be present for such an important addition to our family here at Las Noches." When Grimmjow did nothing in response, Aizen addressed the entire room once again.

"Now, my dear espada, on to business..."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"I've gotta leave again...for a while," said Grimmjow out of the blue while they trudged through the sand.

"I would be surprised if you didn't," responded Ulquiorra. After a few weeks, the two of them had reached a strange sort of peace. When he had nothing better to do, the fourth espada found himself seeking out the sixth. The other man did the same. While not exactly friendly toward one another, they tolerated each others presence, noticing yet not commenting on the invisible bond that kept them in place.

"Will you miss me?" Grimmjow asked with teasing smirk.

"Miss?..." Ulquiorra toyed with the word for a moment in his head. He was familiar with the expression of course, but when asked the question directly, he realized that the concept was more difficult than he thought.

"I will...regret the loss," he managed.

"Loss of what?" prodded Grimmjow, "My engaging personality? Or perhaps the intelligent conversation?" he stepped in front of Ulquiorra and leaned down so that they were face to face. "Or maybe just the heat of my body?" Ulquiorra only stared at him blankly. He was not in the mood for games. He pushed Grimmjow's face out of his way, but the other man grabbed his hand. "Will your heart ache for me until I return?"

Ulquiorra freed his hand and resumed walking. He could feel Grimmjow's growing frustration at the fact that he wasn't getting the attention he desired. Ulquiorra sighed and decided to voice the question that had come to mind with Grimmjow's last words.

"Heart...what does it mean?"

"Huh?"

"The word is used so often, but it is wholly inaccurate. The heart is not the center of emotion.

"So?" Grimmjow couldn't have sounded less interested.

"So how the hell did it originate?"

"Fuck, I don't know why I bother with you sometimes. How could you not understand something so simple?"

"I am remarking on an anomaly in our speech pattern, Grimmjow."

"Yeah but most people don't ask. They just _get it,_" Grimmjow responded. He stopped Ulquiorra again, who was now rather annoyed. "When you feel something you don't feel it here," he said, a finger on his temple, "You feel it here, instead." His hand went to Ulquiorra's chest. Ulquiorra looked at him as if he were mad.

"I think you might have an illness." He pushed past Grimmjow again.

"Maybe that Orihime woman was right. Maybe you don't have a heart," came the taunt from behind.

"Excuse me?" It should have been a compliment, right? Any other day he would have taken it as so, but today he was itching to prove he wasn't the cold, hard machine that Grimmjow always made him out to be. He turned around.

"If we all had feelings like you, I'm afraid nothing would ever get done. The Hueco Mundo would return to a state of anarchy. Is that what you want Grimmjow?"

"Maybe it is!" Grimmjow returned with equal force, "I think we could definitely do without your precious 'Aizen-sama' but I'm not afraid to go after what I want. What do _you_ want, Ulquiorra?"

The question was posed in a strange way, Ulquiorra initially thought. He wanted power, he wanted order, he wanted hollows to someday take over both soul society and the human world...Then he realized that Grimmjow was asking him to differentiate between what _Aizen _wanted and what he wanted for himself. His eyes widened.

"Good," purred Grimmjow, "Now take it." His hand snatched at the air in a wild gesture. "Anything your heart desires."

"You are encouraging me to attain my own, personal, desires," Ulquiorra said, just making sure, "And what if they run contrary to your own?"

"I guess that just makes it more fun," Grimmjow answered, smiling darkly.

"Well then, I want this child," Ulquiorra said simply, his voice suddenly confident, "And," he continued, even after Grimmjow faltered, "I want you to love me."

It was Grimmjow's turn to look stunned. The words hadn't been said in jest or somehow out of context. Ulquiorra was dead serious.

"You've lost your mind, Ulquiorra. Do you even hear what you're saying?"

"I am perfectly sane, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra snapped, "It is not all that ridiculous of a request."

Grimmjow seized Ulquiorra by the arms, fingers curling into a death grip around his biceps. Ulquiorra opened his mouth in protest, but Grimmjow spoke first.

"Don't you get it?" he breathed, his voice coarse. He gave Ulquiorra a hard shake. "When this is over, it's over. We can go back to hating each other. Got it?"

"You're the delusional one, Grimmjow. You seem to be under the impression that nothing has changed. Everything has changed. Things will not go back to the way they were." With some difficulty, Ulquiorra peeled Grimmjow's fingers away from their bruising grip. "Fortunately for you, the things I want I cannot simply 'take'." When he was finally free, he put some distance between him and Grimmjow. He wasn't going to allow the other man to touch him so familiarly if he was going to be so rough.

After a moment of silence, Ulquiorra glanced up at the waning moon, realizing how late it was. He was already regretting half of the things he said.

"Does it scare you?" Ulquiorra asked Grimmjow, eager to break the other man out of his stupor and put this debacle behind them. An evening hunt lay ahead of them and Ulquiorra was famished.

"Love?" snorted Grimmjow, "Hell no. Just you." Hands in his pockets, he started toward the open desert.

"C'mon. We're still getting food, right?" the sixth espada grumbled. He waited for Ulquiorra to catch up. The wind blew sand into the dry air, whistling through their clothes. With their backs to Las Noches, Grimmjow spoke again.

"I guess you should think of a name."

"What about 'Aizen'?"

"Yeah, that's not going to happen."

Their voices faded into the cloudless sky.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: I realize my story is a little weird in that Ulquiorra seems to be doing the most of the chasing. I hope to reverse that eventually. In the mean time, please leave a review. I promise it will help me update faster :)


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

A/N: 1 week until Anime Central and, not surprisingly, I will be going as Ulquiorra. I would rather have gone as Grimmjow but with me being so short and with him not wearing a shirt, I don't think I could pull it off very well.

This is probably the last fluffy chapter. Shit is gonna start happening in the next chapter.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Outside the cave, the wind howled. Complete darkness had spread across the land. No moon or stars decorated the sky tonight. Any living thing would be wise to seek shelter from the coming storm.**

**Ulquiorra stood at the entrance to his current abode, observing the utter blackness. A cold gust of wind blew over him, reminding him that it was going to be a hard night. The leftover heat from the sand below could not reach to the height of the cave. Keeping warm was going to be difficult. **

**There was a whimper from the child in his arms. With that, Ulquiorra stepped inside to protect them both from the stinging sand. There was nothing to do now but sit and wait until the sky cleared again.**

**He walked over to the makeshift bed he had crafted out of scavenged soft materials and set down the shivering infant. Covering him best he could, Ulquiorra lamented that he wasn't able to do more for his tiny pup.**

**As arrancar, they were so very human...so very naked compared to the average hollow. This was, perhaps, their only disadvantage. **

**Ulquiorra curled up on the floor and thought back to a time of similar darkness.**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow eased open the shutters to his window. He only wanted a short look, just to see if there was an end in sight to this relentless sandstorm.

Blackness met his eyes, as far as he could see, which was only a few feet in any direction. Tiny grains of sand pelted his face, stinging like hundreds of sharp needles. He closed the window, frustrated.

"Looks like I'm not going anywhere today...again," he sighed. He threw his katana over his shoulder and headed for the training hall.

He was quite disappointed to find it already populated. His eyes followed the battle in progress. Stark and his single fraccion were crossing blades. A few sword strokes and Grimmjow concluded that it was nothing he hadn't seen before. Like any of Aizen's arrancar, he was curious as to the power of his fellow espada. The lower numbers, especially, kept their releases secret from the others. Grimmjow was just thinking that he could gain some valuable information from sparring with Stark, when a voice jarred him from his thoughts.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get in line." It was Ulquiorra's voice. He had just walked in the door.

"I am in line," answered Grimmjow, "Before you."

"Have you forgotten how to count? Four _always _comes before six," said the dark-haired espada. As usual, his face was perfectly calm and his insult, relevant. If Stark and Lilynet had heard them, nothing would have seemed out of the ordinary.

Grimmjow would have retorted had he not seen the playfulness in Ulquiorra's eyes. Their back-and-forth was solely to keep up appearances at this point.

"Why don't you get in on this fight?" Grimmjow suggested, "That way I don't have to sit around all day."

"Stark has already politely declined my request for a duel," Ulquiorra replied, somewhat bitter, "But a duel is rather pointless right now."

Grimmjow suddenly felt a strange pang of sympathy. Ulquiorra had to be extremely bored. He tried to imagine himself not being able to fight for a period of months. The thought itself was torture.

"You couldn't ask me?" said Grimmjow, annoyed, "I'm not good enough?"

"I don't trust you..." the next part was said with some difficulty, "to take it easy," Oh, he had definitely not wanted to admit that. "You have no self-control, Grimmjow."

"Ch..." Grimmjow scowled, "I can be gentle if I want. I'll show ya."

They waited until the room had cleared before moving to the center. Grimmjow had decided that he was going to attack first. He would start using only his hands. If Ulquiorra drew his sword, he would do so also. If Ulquiorra used a cero, he would assume he could do the same.

When Ulquiorra blocked him easily with one hand and sent him sliding back several feet with the other, Grimmjow realized that, despite the fact that their fight wasn't serious, it was still going to be quite challenging. Ulquiorra was a master with a sword and with hand-to-hand combat, whereas Grimmjow relied quite heavily on his spiritual power.

"Your technique is messy," Ulquiorra criticized a few minutes in. Grimmjow let the comment slide, wondering if Ulquiorra was trying to provoke his temper.

How much time passed, Grimmjow couldn't tell. He had lost himself in the fight completely. He thought only of Ulquiorra, his opponent, and how best to get the advantage. Neither of them had landed a hit, but it was fine just like this...in a perfect balance.

"Enough," Ulquiorra finally said, after what could have been hours. Grimmjow had long since broken into a sweat, but Ulquiorra remained looking unfazed as ever. There had been absolutely no outward signs that he was tiring. It had been a bit unnerving when Grimmjow, himself, had nearly reached his limit.

It soon became apparent, however, that staying as neat and undisheveled as possible was merely one of Ulquiorra's ruses to scare his enemies during a battle. Not long after they had both dropped their stances, Ulquiorra was panting heavily. His face was flushed from the exertion and he wiped perspiration from his brow. He still hadn't recovered after a few minutes of ragged breathing. He bent over, putting his hands on his knees.

"Are you...okay?" Grimmjow asked awkwardly.

"I...can't...breathe," Ulquiorra replied. Reluctantly, he took a knee. He looked as if he were about to be sick.

In Grimmjow's opinion, the cold, hard ground didn't suit Ulquiorra. He walked over to where the other man was kneeling and offered him a hand. The other man only stared at it.

"You must think I'm foolish," Ulquiorra panted, turning his face away in embarrassment or shame.

"Not really," Grimmjow responded, "I probably would have done the same thing." Ulquiorra took the offered hand and allowed Grimmjow to help him back to his feet. Once standing, he did not let go. Grimmjow pulled away slightly, but Ulquiorra gripped tighter. The gaze of Ulquiorra's emerald eyes caught his cerulean ones.

"Thank you, Grimmjow."

He could have been thanking him for the assistance or for the entire spar. Grimmjow had no clue. He placed an arm around Ulquiorra's shoulders.

"...In case you need someone to lean on," he muttered in explanation.

By the time Grimmjow reached his room, Ulquiorra had his eyes shut and was breathing softly. Grimmjow ran the shower. He let Ulquiorra bathe first, and although it was tempting, he chose not to join him. He took his turn afterward.

Grimmjow emerged from the washroom nude. It earned him a once-over from Ulquiorra, who sat on the edge of his bed.

"Looking is free. Touching is gonna cost you," Grimmjow said, ego inflating.

"Don't be lewd, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra replied shortly. He closed his eyes and reclined back against the pillows, letting out a small, tired sigh. The bathrobe that Grimmjow had lent him was far too big and had fallen off his shoulders. Water droplets from his sopping hair dripped down onto those pale shoulders. He had tied the robe shut, but his bare legs still peaked through the fabric.

Grimmjow rummaged for a pair of clean pants. If anyone was guilty of lewdness, it was Ulquiorra. Now that he had gained enough weight to not look quite so skeletal, his overall appearance had reached a level of appeal that was almost irresistible, with soft curves and full lips and absolutely flawless skin. He was damn sexy and Grimmjow was suddenly itching to peel back that robe and claim his work of art.

Ulquiorra was lying on his side and Grimmjow took advantage of his exposed leg, running his fingers up the inside of his thigh. The man shuddered, opening his eyes to stare at Grimmjow warily. His mistrust in Grimmjow was well-founded, the act certainly hadn't been innocent, but Grimmjow was going to head off any protests. He knew Ulquiorra would be feeling sore right about now. He took Ulquiorra's slender leg in his hands and began a thorough massage until the other man was humming in content.

Ulquiorra shifted onto his back so that Grimmjow could do the same to the other leg. After a few minutes, however, Grimmjow's fingers began to deviate. Hands slid up his thighs, grasping at the smooth skin, and dipping to cup the flesh of his buttocks. From there they moved to his hips and immediately, Ulquiorra forced him to stop, arms crossed over his waist, holding down the thick fabric of the bathrobe.

"It will only make you angry, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow continued anyway, disrobing Ulquiorra against his wishes. When he lay bare, Grimmjow took a moment to observe him. He could now see what clothes hid so well. Ulquiorra had grown round in the past few weeks. Last time Grimmjow had studied him like this, the changes had been slight. Ulquiorra was beginning to look as pregnant as he claimed to be. It wouldn't be all that much longer now...

And Grimmjow didn't know if he wanted it to end or not. Who was more terrifying? The old Ulquiorra, the one who simply tolerated his existence, who ignored his challenges and never paid him a second glance? Or the new Ulquiorra, the one who was always at his side, who demanded things like 'love' and tormented him in his wet dreams?

Grimmjow surprised Ulquiorra by placing both hands on his belly, fingertips pressed lightly into the taut skin. Ulquiorra tensed and Grimmjow was rewarded with movement from the child cradled in his womb.

"Do that again, and your face will meet my cero point blank," Ulquiorra hissed. He placed his own, smaller hands atop Grimmjow's but otherwise made no effort to remove Grimmjow's hands from his body.

_It would be so fucking easy..._Grimmjow thought with his hands splayed across Ulquiorra's abdomen. _Only a little bit of pressure. _Apparently, Ulquiorra had something similar on his mind. He looked extremely uncomfortable under Grimmjow's suggestive gaze and his chest was rising and falling quite rapidly. His nails dug into the back of Grimmjow's hands painfully hard.

"You wouldn't..." Ulquiorra breathed, still sounding angry. But when Grimmjow looked at him he saw sadness in those eyes; realization at the fact that if Grimmjow truly wanted to do it, there was a good chance Ulquiorra wouldn't be able to stop him. Ulquiorra sat up, grabbing hold of Grimmjow's shoulders and looked up at him. "You wouldn't," he repeated, this time almost pleading. Hearing Ulquiorra's voice take that tone was most eerie. Grimmjow only stared.

After a few moments, Ulquiorra seemed to have come to his senses, noticing the panic laced in his own voice with disgust. He stood up and reached for his neatly folded clothes.

"Please excuse me, Sexta, I am not myself tonight."

"Where are you going?" asked Grimmjow, as if it was his business.

"I have just remembered that I am late for something."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"I can sense your fear, Ulquiorra. What have you to be afraid of?" His voice was soft...false concern dripping from every word.

Ulquiorra was on his knees before Aizen, staring at the floor in front of him instead of the face of his lord. Aizen sat calmly in his throne. The fourth espada had been worried that Aizen was going to demand a reason for why Ulquiorra had wanted to see him, but it seemed the man already knew.

"Nothing, Aizen-sama," Ulquiorra responded quietly.

"You used to be a man without fear," Aizen said, as though Ulquiorra hadn't spoken.

"I am still that man," Ulquiorra insisted.

"Fear develops out of having something worth losing," Aizen contined, again, ignoring Ulquiorra. He crossed his legs, leaning his head on his hand in a thoughtful manner. "Of course, there is nothing wrong with that, my dear Ulquiorra, but I understand how it could feel...unpleasant."

Ulquiorra said nothing, his posture unchanged.

"However, there comes a point where fear becomes debilitating, unbearable, creeping into every aspect of your life like a sickness..." Aizen shuddered in pure delight at the thought. He took a deep breath, as if smelling the apprehension in the air. "Now do you see, Ulquiorra? Grimmjow doesn't give a damn about you, and he never will."

There. He had said it. Ulquiorra had been waiting to hear those words for so long. They cleared the nagging suspicion from his head and lifted a weight from his shoulders.

"You are a mess, Ulquiorra. Your mind is unraveling. It is alarming to see you in such a state."

"I..." Ulquiorra began in a half-hearted protest. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, "...know," he growled under his breath.

"Grimmjow has spent his usefulness. Once you have recovered your strength, you may dispose of him in any way you wish."

"..."

"Ulquiorra?" Aizen repeated, making sure that the man had heard.

"Yes, Aizen-sama," Ulquiorra finally answered.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**All was quiet in the dark cave. Only the sound of the storm raging outside could be heard. **

**Ulquiorra's eyes snapped open and he lept to his feet. He turned to face his silent intruder, staring hard at the silhouette of a man standing in the entrance. Only one arrancar would have the guts to appear uninvited on his doorstep.**

"**I thought I warned you never to come here again, Sexta."**

"**I don't take orders from you anymore, Ulquiorra." Grimmjow took a few steps forward until he was face to face with Ulquiorra and they could just make out each other's features in the darkness. **

"**You're shaking," Grimmjow commented.**

"**The night is cold," Ulquiorra replied evenly. He kept his stance, refusing to back down. After a few minutes where nothing was said, Grimmjow dropped his gaze. Ulquiorra watched as he shed the cloak he was wearing. He held it out.**

**Ulquiorra was loath to accept Grimmjow's gift, but he took it anyway. Grimmjow looked confused when he did not immediately put it on. Instead, Ulquiorra turned around and lifted his sleeping child from the shoddy nest. Grimmjow watched as he wrapped the baby in the fabric still warm from being on his skin. Once he had set the child down, his shoulders dropped and he spoke with his back to Grimmjow.**

"**You will find no fight here tonight, but if you don't leave quickly I may very well change my mind," Ulquiorra said. **

"**The storm is fierce," said Grimmjow glancing back to the outside, "I will stay until it lets up." He held out his hand for Ulquiorra. "And if you would consent to lie with me, it would make the cold of this night more than bearable."**

**Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes at his former mate, but he could not deny the chill in his body. Hesitantly, he took the offered hand and let Grimmjow pull him into a gentle embrace. Inhaling Grimmjow's scent caused memories to come flooding back to him. Memories of their intimacy, passionate and fleeting. He blushed, thinking of their bodies joined, wondering what it would be like to touch Grimmjow again. **

**He stopped himself before his mind could take it too far. Their time was over.**

**Or perhaps it had never started.  
**

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I have no idea why this story is called "conquest". When I don't exactly know the entire plot of the story I like to just pick a random word and hope I can work it in somehow. The title of this story will probably change and if anyone thinks they have a really great idea, just tell me in your review.

Chapter 13

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Szayel's "Palace" was certainly guarded like one. Cameras, reiatsu detecting devices, and traps awaited the unsuspecting, not to mention the eighth espada's mindless fraccion prowling about the perimeter, bumbling through secretive tasks.

Unfortunately, Ulquiorra had to admit that Szayel and his massive laboratory were a vital part of their operation here at Las Noches. He was a different kind of clever compared to the rest of them. He was the man with a plan. Forget brute strength and thinking on your feet. With enough information and enough strategy, he believed a battle could be decided before it even began.

Ulquiorra reached a door and looked up to what he knew was a camera.

"Let me in, Octava," he said simply, "I wish to discuss some things with you." The door slid open. Szayel appeared, clipboard in hand, scribbling away.

"What makes you think I have anything to say to you?" Szayel asked, speaking to Ulquiorra as if this were some sort of interview.

"I believe you have much to say to me, but unlike the others, you know how to remain professional. Whatever Grimmjow has done or said to you should remain irrelevant. We are not associated in the way you may think."

"So, it's nothing personal...right?" Szayel interpreted, a grin spreading on his face. He stood aside. "Please, come in." When Ulquiorra did not move, Szayel made a small 'tisking' noise with his tongue. "Oh Ulquiorra, I never once dreamt of _hurting_ you, you mustn't think me as barbaric as Nnoitora," the eigth espada said, sweet and unconvincing. But Ulquiorra knew this conversation could not take place without a certain level of trust between the two of them.

The door shut behind Ulquiorra as he entered. He followed Szayel down a hall, catching glimpses of rooms full of strange looking equipment, flickering monitors, smoking test-tubes, and organs preserved in tanks of liquid. They entered a sterile room, medical supplies lining the counters. Szayel took a seat at the desk.

"Now, why have you come?"Szayel finally asked.

"I want to know...what to expect," Ulquiorra answered, "What must I do in preparation? What are my options?" Asking Szayel questions left a bed taste in his mouth. Szayel looked delighted at such blatant submission; such a display of ignorance.

"I can't tell you all that much, Ulquiorra, for I've never gotten the chance to study something like this. I had hoped to document the entire process, observe the changes you have gone through, but alas, you refused to undergo any examinations. There will be pain, that much I know." Lips curled into a twisted smile, "Good thing dear, old Grimmjow will be there to hold your hand."

Except for an eyebrow that twitched in irritation, Ulquiorra betrayed no emotion at Szayel's jibe.

"I highly doubt that," Ulquiorra responded, "Grimmjow has made it very clear that he has no interest in the child he has sired. Aside from that, I am certain I can handle a little pain." Szayel only let out a dark chuckle, eyes sparkling malevolently.

"Everyone can handle a little pain, Ulquiorra. In fact, I am always surprised by how much can be handled at once. I'm afraid what I'm talking about is entirely different. What I'm talking about is pain over time. Hours upon hours of excruciating physical agony. You may start out confident, but by the end of the night, you're sanity will be wearing thin. And then...well...everyone has a breaking point."

_Surely it can't be that bad_, Ulquiorra thought. Szayel had a penchant for trying to strike fear into the hearts of those who dared to wander into his den.

"There are...other methods..." Szayel continued, plucking a small, surgical scalpel from a tray, and admiring it fondly, "...if you so desire." Ulquiorra knew better than to give Szayel a chance to carve him up with a knife. The other man set down the instrument, slightly disappointed.

"Fine then," he said, "If you are to do it the way God intended, then I suppose you will want something for the pain. You can refuse it, but I will have it ready. There's also the matter of what Aizen wants. I've no idea what I might be ordered to do come that day."

Ulquiorra hadn't thought much about Aizen's role. He hadn't thought much about the extent that Aizen might be involved. Would Ulquiorra ever get to see his own child? Or would Aizen keep him locked up somewhere until he came of a useful age? Would he be given a life of luxury? Or would he be given to Szayel to be poked and prodded and studied? When it came down to it, this whole ordeal and its results were nothing more than a science experiment.

Ulquiorra had the sudden urge to run. Not from Szayel, but from the entire castle. It was a ridiculous notion- where could he possibly go?- but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling. He kept the thought from showing on his face. Unfortunately Szayel seemed to notice the impulse all the same.

"It's a bit frightening, isn't it?" Szayel said, the hungry look returning to his eyes as he spoke in a taunting voice, "A logical person such as yourself would have spent his entire life analyzing his own thoughts as they passed. Every idea, every emotion would have to be perfectly crafted in your head before allowing to surface. To think, a slight change to the body's natural compounds could cause such strange, impulsive feelings. It makes one realize that, though we may try to hide it, when certain situations cause gut feelings to have sway over logic, we will always be slaves to our baser instincts." Clearly the subject was fascinating to Szayel. Ulquiorra had to agree that, indeed, the change was offsetting.

"If you wanted to leave, I can assure you that you will not be missed. In fact, I would care so little, that I wouldn't even mention it to Aizen," Szayel said, crossing his arms. Ulquiorra's eyes strayed around the room, briefly resting on spots where there were surely hidden cameras and microphones picking up their conversation. Szayel was attempting to bait him into a trap.

"You know better than to say such things to my face." Ulquiorra replied evenly. Szayel looked unfazed, his expression saying that it had been worth a try.

"Perhaps you would like to investigate something for me?" Szayel asked, smoothly changing the topic. Ulquiorra gave him a hard look that said he wouldn't _like _to do anything for him. "It concerns Grimmjow..." the pink-haired man continued, knowing those words would peak Ulquiorra's interest, if only slightly.

"My reiatsu measuring bugs have been shorting out while placed on him. Either he knows they are there and is purposely destroying them or he has been in some rather unsavory company..." Szayel said.

"No one likes the idea of being spied on," Ulquiorra commented. The eighth espada gave a sinister laugh.

"What kind of scientist would I be if I didn't study the weaknesses of my enemies _and_ my friends?" he sighed. "But that is beside the point. The one thing I have gathered is that he has been leaving the Hueco Mundo far more often then is generally allowed. This, coupled with his suspicious behavior makes it worth looking into, and I'm sure you must be just as interested as I am in finding out where he is going."

"My orders forbid me from setting foot outside the Hueco Mundo. If you are so curios as to where he goes, you'll have to follow him yourself," Ulquiorra answered, grudgingly. He was so restless these days, bored to tears within the castle, that even trivial news like this caused his heart beat with excitement.

"I intend to," Szayel said, getting up from the desk again, "However, the area I need to investigate happens to be in...well...your jurisdiction." When Ulquiorra gave the man a questioning look, Syazel continued. "You must know the place. On the edge of the menos forest. Hidden in the cliffs. Someone routinely opens a garganta there, but he hides his tracks very well..."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Not an hour later, Ulquiorra stood in the very spot Szayel had described, the glow of the everlasting moon bearing down upon him. He could feel the tingle of spiritual energy in the air, and this time, he was able to put a finger to the slight familiarity to it.

He could open the garganta with some time. It wasn't beyond his abilities. But did he want to? Did he want to intrude upon one of Grimmjow's closely guarded secrets? Did he even want to _know_? And most importantly, did he want to disregard the clear rules Aizen had laid down for him of where he was, and was _not, _to go?

"I've been waiting for you. I had a feeling you might come again."

Ulquiorra turned around slowly after hearing the man's voice. His eyes met the only figure other than himself on the dusty plain. He wore a shapeless, brown cloak that was torn and filthy. His feet were bare and on his head was hollow mask, but it was not his own. His reiastu suggested that he was not a hollow at all, and that the mask he wore was a battle souvenir.

"You must be the Shinigami. The one that dwells in the forest," Ulquiorra acknowledged.

"I am honored that you've heard of me, arrancar. It means I've done my job well. I am Ashido," the man responded, removing the mask to reveal a head of redish-brown hair and eyes hardened by loss and struggle.

For a few long minutes, neither of them exchanged dialogue. They merely regarded each other warily. Ulquiorra waited patiently to be attacked, but no blows ever came. He did not have time to waste on a battle of wills.

"Why do you not draw?" Ulquiorra asked him, "Here before you, stands an enemy."

"Every fiber of my being wishes to strike you down, but I cannot bring myself to harm an unborn child."

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed.

"How did you know?"

"Aside from the obvious reason? I was asked not to harm you by your espada mate."

"By Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra said skeptically. It didn't seem like something he would do.

"Is that his name? I only know him by the number six."

Surely Grimmjow would think it beneath him to consort with this lowly Shinigami, right? Or perhaps that was just Ulquiorra. He was beginning to rethink a lot of what Grimmjow did recently.

"What sort of connection do you have with him?" questioned Ulquiorra.

"Nothing beyond a simple favor. I guard the portal while he gets his _fix_. I keep out any others who might want to follow him, hide the evidence of what he is doing."

The word "fix" struck Ulquiorra as odd. If Grimmjow was not leaving the Hueco Mundo for a work-related reason, what could he possibly be doing? All would be uncovered soon, he told himself, and focused back on the man before him.

"Why?" asked Ulquiorra, "Why do such a thing for him?" He wondered how Grimmjow managed to coerce this Shinigami into doing his bidding.

"Sometimes I ask myself the same thing," responded Ashido bitterly, "my work involves killing hollows, not helping them. As it stands, he is the only hollow that was able to earn my respect. And so, I will _allow_ his little visits to my world and will refrain from killing his mate and child."

"How noble of you," Ulquiorra said. Even he wasn't sure he meant it. These Shinigami with their pride and their inflated senses of right and wrong...this _Ashido_ had to know he hadn't a chance in Hell of killing the fourth espada. "Integrity has no place in the Hueco Mundo, Shinigami. I expect you to stand aside while I retrieve the sixth espada. His days of rule-breaking are over one way or another."

He expected the Shinigami to bristle at his words, or perhaps take offense and draw his sword. The man frowned.

"You might not like what you see on the other side...arrancar..."

"I am prepared to do what is necessary," Ulquiorra responded coldly.

Grimmjow was a reckless existence. Denying authority, never failing to issue comments that were borderline treason...would it be all that shocking if he had the desire to swap allegiances? He had never been quite right after his fight with Kurosaki Ichigo.

Ulquiorra berated himself for not giving such a thing proper consideration. He had been so distracted...so wrapped up in his own issues, that he had not noticed the signs.

Whatever Grimmjow's agenda, whatever his philosophy or his reasoning, Ulquiorra knew it was his duty to set him straight. If talking proved futile...

...then now was a good a time as any to bring their sham of a relationship to a close, to end their little game of house, to do what he had expected to do the moment he had met Grimmjow...

and terminate him.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: yeah I decided to cut off the chapter here since the next part was getting too long. Sorry there were no flash-forwards in this chapter. There will be some in the next one.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I'm in love with this chapter. Hopefully, when you reach the end, you will be as well.

Chapter 14

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Underneath the clear, midnight sky Ulquiorra flew. He was a menacing, solitary figure; a predator of the night. He dipped and rose with the wind currents, picking up the smallest sound waves that permeated the dry air.**

**A head of blue fuzz peaked out of Ulquiorra's arms and watched the endless ocean of sand below. He did not seemed disturbed at all by their incredible height, in fact, he seemed to take comfort in the rocking motion of flight. He turned his nose to the wind, sniffing the air hesitantly. He was getting braver, Ulquiorra noticed. They had flown together before, but never this high, this fast, or this long. **

**The child suddenly let out a squeal of delight, a tiny hand reaching down to what looked like, from their height, a small black dot on a white plain. **

**Ulquiorra folded his wings and entered a shallow dive. Only when his feet touched the ground did he feel the pathetic reiatsu.**

**She was lying in a pool of blood, most of which had already congealed in the sand and turned a darker color. More than one limb was missing and lacerations covered her entire body. From the tracks behind her, she must have dragged herself quite a distance.**

**However, even Ulquiorra could see that her wounds were great and that she was bleeding faster than she could regenerate. The look on her face said she had discovered this long ago, and was only waiting for the darkness to claim her. **

**She was an arrancar, and though it had been some time, Ulquiorra knew he remembered seeing her face at Las Noches. Did she have a number? Had she been someone's fraccion? Ulquiorra couldn't remember. She, on the other hand, recognized Ulquiorra just fine. Her purple eyes widened slightly when he came upon her. **

"**I...always thought you were dead..."**

**Ulquiorra had to give her credit for still being coherent, but he didn't answer her. There was no point in a conversation. She didn't have long. **

"**I was never fit...to become an arrancar. We are nothing...without Aizen-sama," she choked. Feebly, her hand fisted in the sand. "I don't want to die here. Anywhere but this...God-forsaken...place."**

**Ulquiorra set down the struggling child in his arms, who immediately crawled through the sand and blood to get to the dying arrancar. Ulquiorra saw her wince when tiny teeth sunk into her leg. Even though she was broken beyond repair, Ulquiorra could not mistake her quiet laughter.**

"**Never thought...I would be eaten by something so...adorable." Tears wet her cheeks and dripped into the sand. She raised her hand to touch the small creature that her soul would soon feed. The baby purred. He unlatched his jaw from her flesh and turned to lick the blood from her fingertips. The female arrancar closed her eyes, unable to look upon such innocence, and bit back a sob.**

"**What is his name?" she whispered.**

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**

The garganta spit him out in what he felt was Soul Society. A perfect replica of the living world frozen in ancient time. He was above a city, high enough to not be noticed by the ordinary people who scurried through the streets below. In the distance, he could make out the ominous structure of Seireitei, the place he knew housed all of the most powerful Shinigami.

He descended from the sky, his feet touching down on a poorly shingled rooftop. Fortunately, he looked human enough to not draw any attention to himself. If anything, the average man would look upon his sword and think him a Shinigami. Ulquiorra did not stay in one spot for very long. He kept moving, never giving these people enough time to notice the hollow among them.

He reached the outskirts of the city, where there were patches of green instead of rows of cramped buildings. This was where he finally found Grimmjow, lazing about beneath a sakura tree in an open field.

He was sure, as he approached, that even his footsteps upon the healthy grass would alert Grimmjow to his presence, but when he drew near he could see that the other man was in a deep slumber. Ulquiorra mentally chided him on being so carefree while surrounded by enemies, but then he realized that even a hollow might find more peace in a place like this than in the Hueco Mundo.

He knew he should wake Grimmjow. It wasn't wise for the two of them to linger in Soul Society, but for some strange reason he chose to sit in the grass next to Grimmjow and wait for him to finish dreaming. He was, after all, due for a nightmare shortly after.

Wind ruffled through Ulquiorra's hair. He could feel the lazy pull of the summer day. Everything was so colorful, so tranquil, so very different than the world he was accustomed to.

He leaned down, his shadow falling over Grimmjow as he examined the other man's face. No lines, no anger...He was extremely good-looking, even more so when he wasn't wearing a scowl. Ulquiorra knew he needed to stay serious. Now was not the time to admire...

As usual Grimmjow wore his jacket open, showing his physical perfection off to the world. Ulquiorra thought perhaps that if he owned that body, he might not mind unzipping his jacket either. Ulquiorra put his hand on Grimmjow's hard chest. Grimmjow didn't even stir at the contact, and his breathing remained slow and even. Sometimes he was envious of the sheer muscle Grimmjow sported. Ulquiorra, himself, did not have the proper build for such muscle, and would always appear frailer and weaker in comparison.

Feeling bold, Ulquiorra laid his head down gently on Grimmjow's chest, listening to the man breathe and hearing the rhythmic pounding of his heart.

Who was he kidding? He was hopelessly fond of Grimmjow. He could lie to himself all he wanted but he did not want this man dead.

Laughter from across the field caused Ulquiorra to lift his head. He came to his senses at once and used sonido to jump into the lush branches of the tree overhead.

The laughter belonged to a group of children. They looked to be of a variety of ages. None of them were spiritually aware. They were covered in dirt and dressed in peasant clothing, but they giggled happily among themselves as they ran...right up to Grimmjow. They boys shoved him playfully to wake him. One little girl crawled on top of him altogether.

Ulquiorra's eyes widened. What sort of fearless beings were they?

"Oi, Oi! You damn brats!" Grimmjow shouted. But he did not sound angry at all. "Can't you see that I'm sleeping?"

"Come play with us, Oni-chan!" said the little girl in a sing-song voice.

"Yeah, play with us!"

"We made a new game!" another added. Grimmjow returned to his reclining position and closed his eyes.

"I played with you a few days ago. Isn't that good enough?" Grimmjow responded.

"No! We have to play now! C'mon, get up!" the girl bounced excitedly.

From his spot in the tree, Ulquiorra watched, transfixed by the odd scene before him. Why would a hollow like Grimmjow, an _espada,_ play gameswith these...these powerless commoners. They were nothing! They weren't even fit to eat! If Grimmjow were to stop suppressing his reiatsu, these children would die merely from being in his presence, yet he treated them as if they were special.

"Not today. Now scram. I got important stuff to do," Grimmjow said.

"Like what?" scoffed one of the older boys, "All you ever do is sit and stare at the sky. It's really boring."

"Yeah, well, I like to be under the sun. There ain't none of it where I come from."

"There's no sun at your house, Oni-chan?" the little girl looked confused, "Aren't there monsters in the dark?"

Grimmjow laughed. It was a sound Ulquiorra had never heard before. He had heard Grimmjow laugh many times, but not like this. There was no malice behind the sound, no spite or teasing quality to it. Just a pure, genuine laugh.

"Maybe I am a monster then," Grimmjow suggested, a smile upon his features. He let out a harmless growl, to which the children screamed playfully. They lept to their feet and ran, fully expecting Grimmjow to chase them. Grimmjow stood up.

"How long are you going to stay there...Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow asked quietly, so that only his silent stalker would hear.

"I've seen enough," Ulquiorra responded, "This is quite a fantasy you've been living, Grimmjow. How do you think these people would treat you if they knew what you really are?"

Grimmjow's lip curled angrily.

"I think we should find out," Ulquiorra said, the light of a cero glowing threateningly from his palm. It wasn't that he wanted to kill any of the nearby inhabitants, it wasn't smart and it definitely wasn't necessary, but he needed a way to show Grimmjow just how he was feeling.

"I ain't done nothing wrong," Grimmjow spat, "Is it a fucking crime to want to see the sunlight?"

"Who do you think you are, to be able to come and go from this world as you please?"

"Who do you think you are to try and stop me?" Grimmjow retorted, finally turning around to look up at the fourth espada hidden in the leaves, "Let's cut the bullshit, Ulquiorra. You're jealous aren't you?"

The reality of it stung.

Ulquiorra attempted a comeback, but the words only caught in his throat. He sighed. The light of his cero faded as did the fight from his eyes. For a moment, he didn't speak, letting the cicadas' drone and the laughter of the kids playing tag fill the silence.

"Would you treat your own child with the same compassion?" Ulquiorra asked. Grimmjow snorted in a manner that said that he did not want to talk about such things. Ulquiorra ground his teeth. "You're a goddamn hypocrite, Grimmjow," he growled, "chasing the very life you mock others for wanting."

Grimmjow eyebrows came together and his blue eyes turned cold. He glanced briefly to make sure he was out of sight from the kids across the field before joining Ulquiorra in the tree. Ulquiorra wasted no time grabbing the man's collar and dragging him down to his height.

"Why are you so determined to make me choose between you and Aizen? You know what you've done. You know what I have to do to you," he hissed in Grimmjow's face. Grimmjow looked down at the hand fisted in the fabric of his jacket.

"I know..." agreed Grimmjow. He took hold of Ulquiorra's wrist, twisting it sharply behind the man's back. Ulquiorra's resistance was minimum, but he grunted in pain. "...that you can't do anything to me," the sixth espada finished, speaking into Ulquiorra's ear.

"I am not afraid of you," the smaller man snarled, but the perspiration on his forehead,the fluttering of his heart, and the trembling of his shoulders said otherwise. He held his breath as a familiar pain gripped his body. He hunched over, creasing his brow at the unpleasant sensation. Behind him, he felt Grimmjow take pity on him.

"Go home, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow let go of him, "You've had enough excitement. Go and tell them all what a useless espada I am. Tell them I'm in cahoots with the Shinigami and that I've been conspiring against Aizen and whatever else your conniving little mind can think up. It's what you've always wanted, isn't it?"

"It's true I used to think you were an embarrassment," Ulquiorra said through his teeth. He straightened up best he could. "I didn't know what you were capable of. The others can see it now...and it frightens them. Even Aizen is afraid of you." Ulquiorra turned his head, glaring at Grimmjow from the corner of his eye. "But they don't know you like I do."

Grimmjow looked doubtful. Likely, he thought sharing a bed with another didn't mean much, but Ulquiorra knew...he knew so many of Grimmjow's most intimate secrets. Random words spoken and seemingly insignificant acts committed pieced together a puzzle of a man.

"Let us come to an agreement, Grimmjow. I won't mention anything I saw today to anyone else if you come back to the Hueco Mundo with me and leave all of this behind."

Grimmjow had to be startled by Ulquiorra's offer. It wasn't every day the fourth espada chose to forgo espada protocol on the basis of personal interest.

"Have you fallen in love with me, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow asked darkly. It was more of an accusation, more of an attempt to get under his skin, than an honest question, but it didn't stop Ulquiorra from wincing. He broke eye contact, hesitating slightly before he spoke.

"An emotion like 'love' might be beyond me, but practically speaking...There are times where you make me want to disobey Aizen. I have this desire...to not let anything bad happen to you. I enjoy being in your company, even if we do not talk. I long for you to touch me, innocent or otherwise. And I wish that you would feel the same. If that is not 'love' then please," he turned his green irises back to Grimmjow, "...tell me what is."

"Why do you have to make things so damn complicated?" mumbled Grimmjow, absently running his hands through his blue hair, "If you don't hate me, then just come over here and kiss me."

Ulquiorra's arms tentatively slid up Grimmjow's chest and around his neck. His eyes clenched shut tightly to hold back the stubborn wetness that burned at the corners of his vision, as he tilted his head up and met Grimmjow's lips with his own. Grimmjow answered the kiss so forcefully that Ulquiorra didn't feel quite so horrified at the degree of passion that he, himself, was displaying. Grimmjow's arms drew him close, flushing both of their cheeks with color as they became aware of the life pressed between them.

They gripped each other intensely, nails embedding in flesh and hands pulling at hair, wanting nothing more than to feel skin on skin. Ulquiorra clung to Grimmjow selfishly, worried that if he didn't, the other man might escape. How long had he been living this moment in his dreams, unaware that he had desired it for so long?

When they parted for air, Ulquiorra rested his head on Grimmjow. From over his shoulder, he noticed the change in the color of the sky. The sun was setting, reminding him that time was short and that this peace could not last forever.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"**His name is Sol," Ulquiorra answered, deciding on whim to respond to the arrancar who was moments from death. She let out shaky breath, her eyes widening.**

"**That's a funny name...for a hollow," she breathed. She let her arm drop to the ground, having spent the last of her strength to move it. Her eyes still followed the infant, who had lost interest in her fingers and crawled up to her face. He put a tiny hand on her cheek, leaving a bloody print. He giggled at his handiwork, looking over to Ulquiorra for approval. **

"**Tell her good-bye," Ulquiorra said calmly, "And thank her," he added as an afterthought. **

**Although the little hollow was too young for words, he seemed to have understood. He made a disappointed sound, laying his head against her cheek and nuzzling her gently, tickling her nose with his tuft of blue hair. His wide, blue eyes looked into her dying purple ones. **

"**I guess I got to see the sunlight...after all," she said sadly, regretfully, as she drew her last breath.**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: "sol" is Spanish for "sun". It's Japanese pronunciation, "soru" means "to warp"


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Grimmjow watched entranced, from behind a nearby rock. The moonlight gave the water a soft glow, as it rippled in the small pond, and as it dripped off of Ulquiorra's bare skin.**

**It was the only source of water for many miles, an oasis on the edge of a desert plain, a rare puddle of life-giving liquid treasured by all who inhabited this area. It was larger during this season, where an occasional rain caused it to swell in size to more than just a few square feet. Some daring plant-life had sprung up along the edges, blooming brilliantly and reminding Grimmjow of the time of year, of the lust that tortured his body. **

**He could see it in Ulquiorra's eyes as well, even from his hiding place. The former espada had left their cub to play a short distance away, while he stood, ankle deep in the water, attempting to cool his heated skin. The cold water might be able to ease his suffering for a small amount of time, but Grimmjow knew it wouldn't be enough to soothe the burning desire for another's body. **

**Ulquiorra leaned down to cup some water in his hands and tip it onto his face. **

**It had been a long time since Grimmjow had seen Ulquiorra in his human form. That expanse of flawless skin and the movements of his slender body were simply enchanting. Without his giant wings and horns, he looked rather small and harmless. It was hard for Grimmjow to keep reminding himself that Ulquiorra was still a force to be reckoned with, and that he could not simply pounce on him and have his way. **

**But damn was it tempting...**

**After a while, Grimmjow became aware that he was not Ulquiorra's only admirer. Ulquiorra's reiatsu was enough to warn other, weaker hollows to stay at a distance, but as the watering hole was such a popular spot, unwanted guests would wander in sooner or later. Only when Grimmjow noticed an arrancar, a former _numeros_ in fact, prowling around with a group misfits, did he know there would be trouble. **

**It was common these days, the days after Aizen, for arrancar who believed they had lost everything to gather a group of lesser hollows and form a sort of gang, patrolling and wreaking havoc. They would grow arrogant and think themselves powerful and important, but they were sadly mistaken. This moron, whatshisface, formerly arrancar eighty-something, was no different. He probably knew of Ulquiorra, but would have been too low in the chain of command to have met him in person, and so did not even realize who he was about to mess with. **

"**Why hello there, little desert flower," he called to Ulquiorra in a most disgusting manner. He slicked back his blonde hair, wetting his lips, as his group of retards gathered around him. Ulquiorra didn't even honor him with a blank stare. Instead his eyes darted around the area, suddenly searching.**

"**Oh you wouldn't happen to be looking for this, would you?" the asshole asked, gesturing to one of his large goons, who held up the baby captured in his fist. Ulquiorra's eyes flashed dangerously. "That's right, now slide over your sword and he won't become our snack."**

**Grimmjow saw Ulquiorra hesitate but when the little cub began to cry, Ulquiorra seemed to think he had no choice. He bent over to pick up his sword from the bank and tossed it over to the blonde arrancar. **

"**Let him down," Ulquiorra demanded. **

"**There's no rush, sweetheart," whatshisname said smoothly, stepping into the water. He reached out to cup Ulquiorra's chin. "What do you say we have some fun?" Ulquiorra calmly avoided the man's touch.**

"**The fun where trash like you dies for daring to touch what is not his, perhaps."**

"**I don't appreciate your attitude," the blonde man answered, "And I don't think the kid will either." He gestured to his lackey, who tightened his grip. A child's scream was all it took to cause Ulquiorra to become docile for the horny bastard as he put his hands all over a body that Grimmjow still considered his.**

**Grimmjow waited for Ulquiorra to do something, but he did nothing. It was clear what was going to happen if things continued. Grimmjow unsheathed Pantera.**

**Some of these shitheads liked to feel like 'big fish' but some of them just didn't seem to realize that, in the pond that was the Hueco Mundo, there was always something bigger.**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The man in his arms kissed him with abandon, hands buried in his blue hair, lips soft and wet on his own. Even when Grimmjow broke the kiss, Ulquiorra continued, his hot mouth moving onto his neck.

Grimmjow had never seen Ulquiorra so affectionate, so wildly possessive. It seemed not two days ago, the other man could have cared less about anything Grimmjow did. Even when they'd had sex, Ulquiorra always seemed to be indifferent. And while Ulquiorra had no less ordered Grimmjow to have feelings for him, there had been no inkling that he'd be getting them in return.

So what had he done to cause this sudden change in Ulquiorra?

"Do you hear that?" Grimmjow whispered, his voice taking on an urgent tone. The fourth espada let out a frustrated noise as he clawed at Grimmjow, eager to return to their embrace.

"I don't hear anything," he said, slightly impatient.

"Exactly..." replied Grimmjow. There was silence. No insects buzzed, no trees rustled in the wind, and no children laughed. Ulquiorra realized this and his eyes narrowed.

They had been discovered. Clearly, Ulquiorra was not happy with the interruption. He tore himself from Grimmjow, hand on the hilt of his katana, ready to deal with the approaching strangers.

"Not yet," Grimmjow grabbed his arm, "Hide your reiatsu. You've been doing a shitty job this whole time. You've led them right to us."

"Unfortunately, I can only hide my own," Ulquiorra responded, his hand momentarily straying to his midsection, "I trusted you would pick a spot _not_ frequented by Shinigami. Forgive me for not taking your stupidity into account."

Grimmjow growled but he knew now was not the time to get in an argument. His hand parted the leaves , gently pushing them back to get a view.

"Why don't you come down from the tree? We've got you surrounded. Fighting is pointless," a voice spoke from somewhere down below. It was female and confident. Overly confident in Grimmjow's opinion. There was only five of them, and the levels of their power suggested they were only small-fry. As Grimmjow prepared to jump down, Ulquiorra stopped him.

"Grimmjow, we need to break their kido barrier. Otherwise we-"

"Shut up and let me do it my way," Grimmjow said, brushing him off.

Once on the ground, Grimmjow faced his opponent, a sadistic grin stretched on his lips. The Shinigami leader and her companions faltered, their eyes traveling to the hollow hole in Grimmjow's stomach to his maskless face. Quite obviously they hadn't been privileged enough to meet an arrancar before.

"What...are you?" one of them asked, confusion and fear evident.

"Heh. I guess that's the sort of information peons like you wouldn't be trusted with," Grimmjow snickered. He cracked his knuckles. "Who wants to die first?"

"No one will be dying today," the Shinigami responded, "Not even you, hollow."

Something happened. It was if Grimmjow had suddenly been thrown into water and had his head held underneath. The air around him was suffocating him.

"What...the...hell..." Grimmjow hissed as he tried to move his limbs. It felt as though gravity had turned against him, forcing him into the ground, causing everything to become heavy. His head pounded as if surrounded by an invisible pressure.

With an enormous amount of strength, Grimmjow picked himself up and drew his sword. He had no idea what was going on but he knew if he cut these people down it would stop. They were not this strong. It had to be some kind of feint.

After a few blocked strokes, Grimmjow realized he needed a new plan. He moved as if he had weights tied to his arms and legs that were getting heavier by the moment.

"Stop. It is useless, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said. He jumped down from the tree, but once on the ground, he failed to stand properly. He settled into a kneeling position. "This barrier is inverting our reiatsu."

"Your hollow friend is right. That overwhelming power you feel is your own turned against you," the vile Shinigami said with her hands on her hips, looking satisfied.

"If that is so then why haven't you been affected? You are standing in here with us," snarled Grimmjow.

"The more powerful you are, the stronger its effects, stupid beast. Why do you suppose they sent _peons_ like us to deal with you in the first place?" she answered with a chuckle. By now, Grimmjow had fallen to his hands and knees. A sweat had broken out on his skin and his muscles spasmed as he attempted to remain upright.

"I'd say you have mere minutes left of consciousness. We'd love to stay and watch, but my team and I have business elsewhere. The research and development division will be along shortly to pick you up." The other Shinigami shared a good laugh at this. Their leader turned on her heel, but not before giving Grimmjow and Ulquiorra one, last, pleased smirk.

Grimmjow had an insane urge to throw his sword at her, but she was already too far. Frantically, he searched for an escape. He could see where the barrier ended, and the points where the amateur Shinigami had sealed them . They weren't that far. He smiled victoriously.

"I'll handle this side, Ulquiorra. Destroy the ones over there." His eyes came to rest on Ulquiorra, who was now lying in the grass a few feet away, unmoving. Grimmjow grit his teeth and dragged himself over to find him still conscious.

"Get up! We have to get out of here." Grimmjow shook him. Ulquiorra only looked at him with half-lidded eyes. "Fuck! Get it together, will ya?" He tried to pull Ulquiorra up by his arm, but the other man fought him.

"Go," Ulquiorra snapped, "Don't wait for me." His tired, green eyes turned to Grimmjow. His breathing was shallow and weak. Grimmjow could see it in his face...that he did not intend to get up again.

"You're just going to give up?" Grimmjow said furiously. "You're going to let them have you?"

There was sadness in those eyes. He was finished. Whereas Grimmjow still had hope and a will to escape, Ulquiorra was already praying for the mercy of his captors. Grimmjow wouldn't stand for it. Quite viciously, he tried again to pull Ulquiorra to his knees.

"Ngh," smaller arrancar let out a painful sound, wrenching his arm from Grimmjow's deathgrip and collapsing back onto the ground. Had he no desire at all to at least _try_ and save himself?

Grimmjow's hand was wet. He looked down and saw blood smeared onto the grass. It was Ulquiorra's. He could not think of when the other could have been wounded. He searched for the source, following the trail up Ulquiorra's bloodstained pant leg.

Grimmjow understood now.

"My number..." the fourth espada said, his voice a feeble whimper. Grimmjow had to come closer just to hear him. "Please...burn it off."

Grimmjow hesitated, but Ulquiorra's hand found his and brought it to the left side of his chest, just above his heart. There were only two reasons Ulquiorra would not want that number anymore. The first was so that the Shinigami wouldn't know he was an espada. The second...Grimmjow did not want to contemplate.

He brought forth a cero to his palm, at least what he was able to manage of a cero. When the heat began to sear his flesh, Ulquiorra cringed deeply. He arched up into Grimmjow's hand, fingers digging into the grass.

When he was finished, Grimmjow looked from Ulquiorra's blistering skin to where the sun had set beyond the hills. Briefly, he wondered if he should make his bid for freedom with Ulquiorra over his shoulder. Then a wave of exhaustion overcame him and he knew he wouldn't be able to do it.

He looked back to his fallen mate. Ulquiorra had curled in on himself, his eyes shut tightly and his hands holding his stomach.

With a sigh, Grimmjow placed his hand on his gothic six and did to his own number what he had just done to Ulquiorra's.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi, himself, decided to pick up his new specimen. They were quite unexpected- he would have to prepare a special containment facility for hollows of their caliber – but they certainly wouldn't go to waste in his care. He was fortunate his own scientific devices (illegally) monitoring the denizens in that particular area had been the fist to pick up on the fluctuating reiatsu.

After that, it had only taken a hefty bribe to one of the newly formed kido divisions to aid in the quiet capture of said specimens and not inform any of the other squads. No one yet had to know of these invaders. Mayuri shuddered to think of the simply barbaric things that might be done to them in an effort to subdue and subsequently extract information before he was able to study them.

It was dark when he and his squad finally got around to retrieving them. Their uniforms and bare faces said much. They were elite arrancar, part of Aizen's army, but how elite, only time would tell. The scientist approached them, giving a disapproving noise at the sight of blood. He had taken specific care to capture them in a harmless way and it had all been for naught. Such incompetence.

From the proximity at which the two arrancar laid, one would assume they were familiar with one another. Hollows were solitary creatures by nature, but ones like these, with high intelligence, would see the benefit of teamwork. It was also known that Aizen's pets tended to travel in pairs for security purposes. But perhaps these two were something more. The smaller one – the one with the dark hair – was quite possibly pregnant. Was Azien breeding these creatures now? The world needed more arrancar like it needed Kenpachi Zaraki.

Mayuri felt fear in the pit of his stomach when he felt those menacing green eyes on him. Apparently, this one was not as out cold as he had thought.

He brushed away the feeling as fast as it had come. This arrancar may still be conscious, but he was more or less paralyzed. He studied the blood on his clothes thoughtfully.

"Hmm...are you in extreme pain, arrancar?" He knew he wouldn't receive an answer, but the urge to taunt had gotten the better of him. He grabbed the arrancar by his black hair and lifted his head to get a better look. "This isn't the end for you..." he couldn't stop the devilish smile from playing on his face, "But when I am through with you, you'll wish it had been."

The prospect of meeting an arrancar on the battlefield might be daunting, but the science behind them was far more intriguing. As much as Mayuri hated to admit it, he needed these arrancar. Their secrets were his for the unlocking. It was always a kick in the face when he remembered he was still standing in the shadow of Urahara Kisuke.

He tilted the arrancar's head to the side, exposing his neck. He'd never gotten to play with a hollow that looked so human. Mayuri pulled a syringe from his coat, stabbing it into his specimen's jugular and slowly pushing the liquid into his veins.

"Sleep...for now," he told the hollow, watching his eyes fall shut.

He snapped his fingers, bringing two of his men to attention.

"This one to the lab. That one to the basement. Sedate them properly or these things will eat you alive. And keep your mouths shut if you don't want your organs to become spare parts."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: And some of you thought the last chapter was the end. Shame on you! Don't even start to think the story is over until the two story lines meet up.

Again, I wont be going into too much detail about the pregnancy because I've learned that everyone likes their male pregnancies different. You can assume whatever you like and I'll try to keep it vague for the benefit of your own imagination.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: again, I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but this one happens to have a very distinct mood that i felt would be disrupted by adding anything further.

Chapter 16

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow did not remember blacking out. When he next woke, he found himself in a dark cell, shackled to the wall. All around him he felt reiatsu-suppressing stone. He winced as he sat up, feeling the raw flesh on his back sting.

"We are being watched," commented Ulquiorra's monotone voice from the opposite end of the cell. It took a moment for Grimmjow's eyes to adjust to the darkness and seek him out. He, too, had restraints around his wrists and ankles. The heavy chains jingled as he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. The image of Ulquiorra lying in the grass, his blood spreading, was suddenly vivid in Grimmjow's mind. He wondered if the other man was okay. He didn't have the heart to ask.

"Why didn't you save yourself?" Ulquiorra said quietly, "You could have done it."

"Don't I fucking know," was Grimmjow's irritated reply, "Why didn't you save us both? You knew exactly what was going to happen the moment they showed up."

"I tried, Grimmjow. You didn't listen."

"That's not good enough," Grimmjow snapped. Ulquiorra sighed.

"I didn't _know_ what was going to happen," he rectified, "I had observed the kido being perfomed while on a mission for Aizen, but that was long before it had been perfected. There had been no reason to believe it would pose a serious threat to beings like us."

"Then I guess we should just be damn grateful we're still alive," Grimmjow growled. He knew he and Ulquiorra could argue all they wanted, but what was done was done.

"You and I are," Ulquiorra said, his eyes downcast. His arms rested lightly over his middle. "But perhaps not all of us."

He knew what Ulquiorra was saying, and he couldn't deny the thought that had been at the back of his mind. One glance at the fourth espada's profile suggested that he was still carrying the child, but whether his heart was still beating was a different matter.

"You lost it?" he asked rather insensitively.

"I...don't know," Ulquiorra replied quietly. His hands clenched, creasing the fabric of his shirt. "If I have, then it would only be 'good riddance' to you. Am I correct?"

_That was a bit harsh, fucking bastard._

"It would only be a 'good riddance' if we had gotten rid of it before it got us captured by the enemy. To late now, don't you think?" Grimmjow answered, equally scathing.

Not being able to give a retort, Ulquiorra shut his mouth and turned away. Grimmjow regretted those words already.

"You are right," Ulquiorra said, his voice strangely constricted.

"Look," began Grimmjow with a frustrated sigh, "I didn't mean that." He got up and walked to the end of his chains. Ulquiorra was just out of his reach. He sat back down. "I'm sorry," he added stiffly. He held out his hand. "Let's call a truce. It's no use pointing fingers."

Ulquiorra faced him again, but he refused to make eye contact. Slowly, he slid his hand into Grimmjow's.

"I'm sorry as well. It was cruel of me to say that to you." His voice was tight, as if he were desperately trying to hold something back. They gripped hands briefly, fingers tightening. Grimmjow let go, but after a moment, his hand returned to Ulquiorra's shoulder.

"Don't worry," his voice awkward in his attempt to cheer up the other man, "No kid of mine would die so easily."

Ulquiorra looked up at him, his expression troubled, his eyes red and bloodshot. Grimmjow could only imagine the storm of emotions he kept hidden.

"You want to see him someday, don't you, Grimmjow?" The words all but tumbled from his mouth, "Perhaps hold him?" the way Ulquiorra spoke, with his voice rising in pitch, suddenly made him sound young...and scared. "That's all I've ever wanted to do. I haven't thought much beyond that." He crawled closer, dragging his chains and settling between Grimmjow's knees. "But when that day comes, be it today, tomorrow, or two months from now..." he bit his lip, "I don't want to hold his lifeless body." Ulquiorra's voice cracked.

"Ulquiorra..."

"I've come too far for it all to end here."

"Ulquiorra," said Grimmjow, louder this time. Ulquiorra seemed to be on the verge of some sort of meltdown. "I know it's important to you and all, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. We could always..." he couldn't stop his cheeks from heating up. "...you know...get you another one?"

He didn't really know if that helped or not. Ulquiorra calmed his breathing. He regained his posture, reaching up to dab hesitantly at the moisture that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. He seemed almost shocked by it.

"I suppose I've hit rock bottom if I'm attempting to garner sympathy in such a manner...from a man like you, no less," the smaller man said, horrified by his own actions. Grimmjow scowled.

"You don't have to be a dick when I'm offering a shoulder for you to cry on. Maybe I don't understand. Would you rather I hold you gently and tell you everything's gonna be alright? I could do that, but it'd be a fucking lie."

"I don't need a lie, Grimmjow. All I want is..." Ulquiorra stopped mid-sentence, suddenly distracted. His hand still on his cheek slid back to brush through his dark hair fretfully. "heh..." he breathed in a sort of relieved laugh, pulling away and going back to his spot against the wall. His face had a look of absolute content; a look Grimmjow only caught a glimpse of right after the times they had sex. He seemed to have forgotten about Grimmjow, closing his eyes as his hand softly stroked his abdomen, smoothing the dirty clothes that covered him.

"It seems my worries were unfounded," was all the smaller arrancar offered in explanation. He obviously was trying to appear indifferent, but Grimmjow noticed the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Watch..."

Slowly, he lifted his tattered jacket, peeling it away from the burnt flesh of his chest and offering Grimmjow a plain view of what he normally tried to hide. Grimmjow had lost track of how long Ulquiorra had been pregnant and the other arrancar certainly was adept at concealing it. Only when he undressed himself could Grimmjow truly see the changing shape of his body. What he had thought might be 6 months now looked more like 8. He studied the curve, watching Ulquiorra's muscles expand and contract around the child as he breathed. He didn't wait long before noticing movement...the motions of a tiny life nearly ready to enter the world.

Ulquiorra wore a giddy expression that hinted he had left reality. Grimmjow watched him, hypnotized by the motion of his hand. He suddenly wished that face was meant for him, and that his hand might caress him with the same tenderness.

Grimmjow had to admit that he was slightly disappointed. A part of him had _wanted _Ulquiorra to despair, had _wanted_ Ulquiorra to lose his composure and cling to him while crying uncontrollably.

After another wave of strange jealousy, Grimmjow took Ulquiorra's arm, interrupting his moment and causing the other man to give him a suspicious look. Ulquiorra had the sense to brace himself as Grimmjow pulled him to his chest, wrapping his arms around the smaller arrancar tightly. Ulquiorra made a noise of discomfort.

"Are you trying to smother me?" he said, gasping for air. Grimmjow let up slightly, but not enough for Ulquiorra to escape. Only when he began to pet Ulquiorra's soft hair, did the other espada's confusion dissipate. His shoulders relaxed and his hands rested on Grimmjow's chest. Grimmjow felt him bury his face in his neck, feeling the tickle of his eyelashes. They stayed like that for a few long minutes.

"What do you think they'll do to us?" Ulquiorra whispered against his mate's skin, breaking the silence...bringing back the worry...and the reality of where they were.

"I think we're about to find out," Grimmjow answered quietly. They both looked up. Although it was hard to see in the dim light, a strange haze had settled about the room. The smokey substance was leaking into the cell from a small vent in the ceiling. It was intentional.

"Gas?" Ulquiorra said aloud, voicing his own suspicions. He dissolved into a coughing fit.

"No," said Grimmjow darkly, taking a hesitant sniff, "Poison."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Deep shame penetrated Ulquiorra to his core as unfamiliar hands explored his body. He grunted as he was shoved against the rock, its rough surface scraping his face. He could hear his child crying.**

"**It will all be over in a few minutes, my little flower," said the man who had captured his wrists behind his back, "Shall I tell you my name so that you can call it out when you come? It's Oro. Arrancar ochenta y cuatro." **

**The hand that had slid down to cup the toned flesh of Ulquiorra's buttock suddenly froze.**

"**That's right," came a new voice, low and deadly, "Get your disgusting fingers off my property."**

**Ulquiorra stole a glance over his shoulder to see Grimmjow standing in the water a few feet away. He was in human form, a new streamlined arrancar uniform adorning his body. The white jacket was hanging open, exposing his chest. The white, form-fitting pants left little to the imagination. Blood was splattered here and there from the other hollows now lying dead on the ground. In one arm, he held their wailing child. Pantera was unsheathed, digging into the back of the blonde arrancar's neck. **

"**You know him?" the man, Oro, snarled at Ulquiorra. He felt as if he had been deceived. **

"**Never seen him in my life," Ulquiorra answered. **

"**Ch..." Grimmjow tisked angrily. In one, swift motion he used Pantera to slit the throat of the lowly arrancar, letting him drop to the ground and struggle for his last few breaths. Ulquiorra watched until the life had left him, before turning his eyes to Grimmjow. He said nothing, waiting for the other to speak.**

"**I'm not going to even get a "thank you"?"**

"**I assure you, I had full control of the situation," the smaller espada said colorlessly. **

"**If you wanted to become another man's toy, you should have come to me first," Grimmjow replied dangerously. He stepped forward and Ulquiorra cursed his own body as he felt his heart speed up in response. Only Grimmjow could give him such a mixture of fear and want. He glanced at the baby in Grimmjow's arms, whose sobbing had reduced to frightened whimpers. Even at his age he could sense the atmosphere and know that something was still wrong. Ulquiorra held out his hands expectantly.**

"**This is the first time I've gotten to hold him," Grimmjow remarked, "At least let me have a proper look." He lifted the child, studying him thoughtfully. The little cub stared back with watery eyes, letting out a hiccup. A smile spread on Grimmjow's face.**

"**It's a pity," Ulquiorra said quietly, "He looks far more like you."**

"**Pity? More like a blessing. Once upon a time my looks were good enough for you," the other man alluded. Ulquiorra stopped a blush from forming.  
**

**It seemed Grimmjow, as tough as he acted, wasn't immune to the helpless innocence that only an infant could provide. He cuddled the child to him, purring contently. Again, Ulquiorra tried to take back the child but Grimmjow turned away. **

"**Give him to me," Ulquiorra said, in his voice a tone of warning. Grimmjow ignored him and the smaller arrancar felt his frustration building. "Why the sudden interest?" he continued acidly, "You never gave a damn before."**

** Grimmjow didn't seem to be listening. He brought his own face close to his son's, and, rather like the feline he was, licked his cheek experimentally. The baby's blue kitten ears flattened against his head and he mewled happily. **

**The former sixth espada gave Ulquiorra a sly look.  
**

"**You are mine, Ulquiorra. I won't allow you to take another mate."**

**Ulquiorra eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Even though he had never intended to take another mate, he had the urge to tell Grimmjow it was no longer any of his business. They were through. Grimmjow was a traitor to the espada. And Ulquiorra had no desire to ever return to his previous life...wrapped up in lies and politics.  
**

"**If I let you have me, will you leave us in peace?"**

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: aside from the flaws already in place in the first few chapters, I just discovered several more. Damn you continuity! Please ignore until I have them fixed.

Chapter 17

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Ulquiorra watched Grimmjow carefully set their child down on the water's edge. He quickly found amusement in the wet sand, lifting a handful and offering it to Grimmjow. The father looked unsure how to respond to his son. He turned to Ulquiorra, his expression unreadable.**

"**Name?" he asked. **

"**Sol."**

"**Sun? What the hell kinda name is that?"**

"**It's fitting," Ulquiorra said, moving to stand between Grimmjow and the baby, "The sun has always been something you could never have."**

**The atmosphere between them was chilly.**

**He allowed Grimmjow to grab him roughly, lust heavy on the other man's breath. He felt his own body betray him, alighting at his former partner's touch. **

"**You can hate me all you want for what I've done," Grimmjow hissed, "But if it wasn't for me, there would be no damn _sun._"he wrestled Ulquiorra to the ground, where he held the other face down in the few inches of cool water. Ulquiorra raised himself to his elbows, spitting out a mouthfull of water as he looked back at Grimmjow with malice. He inhaled sharply as he felt Grimmjow force his legs apart, grinding his clothed erection against his bare ass. **

"**You say you want me out of your life, but I am going to fuck you so hard, Ulquiorra, that forever wont be long enough." **

**Ulquiorra arched, pressing his backside back against Grimmjow's hardness. His body had registered Grimmjow's words faster than his brain and was eager to return the enthusiasm. Ulquiorra snarled, angry with himself, but he simply couldn't deny the heat that tortured him day in and day out. **

"**Say it," said Grimmjow, his lips grazing Ulquiorra's neck, "Tell me you want me."**

"**Not in front of the _him_," Ulquiorra growled, nodding in the direction of the baby.**

"**He ain't old enough to get what's going on. Besides, sooner or later, he needs to learn who's in charge around here...that you belong underneath me."**

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**

Fuzzy voices and images danced in and out of Ulquiorra's consciousness. His mind was there, yearning to discover what was happening, but his body wouldn't listen...never being able to stay awake for more than a few seconds. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he was able to open his eyes and think with clarity.

A light shown down on him from overhead, blinding him and forcing him to look away. The rest of the room was dark. He moved slightly and found himself strapped to the hard surface he was lying on.

"So you are awake..." drawled a voice from one of the shadowy corners of the room. A man entered his field of vision, with a face stranger than Ulquiorra had ever seen on a Shinigami. Was it make-up or a mask that gave him that coloring? It was a moment before Ulquiorra remembered that this was the same Shinigami who had captured him. He must be part of the Shinigami's scientific division, perhaps Szayel's equivalent.

"Hmmm..." began the Shinigami, bringing his face in close to examine his captive, "I tailored that compound specifically for you and it's effects have already worn off. How disappointing. I guess you will have to be awake for the rest."

Ulquiorra opened his mouth, but he was unable to form a recognizable word.

"It's much easier when the subjects can't talk," the Shinigami replied, irritated, "But it can't be helped. I need to study you before wind of this reaches the other captains."

This Shinigami was a captain. Not one that Ulquiorra had seen before, but he knew very well the meaning of the white overcoats with the numbers on the back. Apparently, all men of science held sick perversions not shared by others of their race and this Shinigami's curiosity was the only thing keeping Ulquiorra alive.

"...but you are a strange case..." the captain was saying, "My experience with arrancar is already limited, and never in all my years dealing with hollows have I come across a successfully mated pair." His eyes scanned Ulquiorra's exposed body. The arrancar met his gaze.

"Very curious indeed..." the man continued thoughtfully, "Primarily, a hollow is concerned with his desire to consume other spiritual beings, even other hollows. This cannibalistic tendency prevents most from mating altogether, since a hollow would regard a fellow hollow first and foremost as a meal, and second as an object of sexual domination."

Ulquiorra was used to being talked about as if he were some sort of monster, but the coldness with which this Shinigami now spoke made Ulquiorra suddenly feel as if he had never been as human as he thought. A wide smile spread on his captor's face as if the man had guessed his stray thoughts.

"Even taking into account that you are an arrancar and have reasoning abilities beyond that of lesser hollows, it is still unlikely that you, or any other arrancar has the capacity for tender feelings toward a mate...even less a child. That you and your mate haven't killed each other, and that you have managed to keep the child alive this long are beyond anything I could have imagined for such beasts."

Grimmjow might have taken offense to that, and while it might be cruel to label all hollows 'beasts' Ulquiorra knew that he and Grimmjow were beasts for different reasons.

"What are you trying to say?" Ulquiorra finally spoke in a hoarse voice.

"That someone must have made you do it, am I right?"

He had known the conversation would drift to Aizen sooner or later, but he wasn't about to give this Shinigami the satisfaction...if he wanted the information he would have to break him.

"Perhaps you should check your calculations," the man strapped to the table said, "You are wrong in assuming we highly evolved arrancar have any less an emotional range than yourselves."

The words felt strange coming from his mouth. A few months ago he wouldn't have believed them. In fact, he would have taken pride in the fact that he wasn't burdened with such emotional baggage. But now Grimmjow had all but turned his world upside-down.

"Oh?" the Shinigami replied, one eyebrow raised, "If you are suggesting that this happened naturally, then am I to believe that that blue-haired arrancar overcame you physically? All the hollow matings I have observed begin with one first besting the other in battle." He held up a few sheets of paper, flipping through them absently. "But according to the data my devices have gathered, your reiatsu levels are higher than your mate's. Being so strong, the only other possibility is that you gave yourself to him willingly," his eyes narrowed, "but that would be unheard of..."

They held each other's gaze for quite some time, testing, challenging...

"I won't play mind games with you any longer. I'm sure you get enough of them from Aizen," the scientist said dismissively after a few moments, "And while I am interested to figure out what that snake of a man is plotting, we have plenty of time for torture." He approached Ulquiorra, strange instruments in hand. There was suddenly a beeping from a nearby machine. The Shinigami's eyes flickered over to it.

"Feeling a bit frightened are we?"

"Shinigami or not, a man like you would only manage to disgust me," Ulquiorra replied. He was answered with a dark chuckle.

"Then why is your heart-rate so high?" a twisted smile graced the captains features, "Do try to keep yourself in check. I've worked so hard to stabilize you, far more effort then you or your offspring deserve, and I expect a timely delivery from you."

"You seem to think a delivery will actually occur within these walls. I will not allow his first moments of life to take place in your prison." Outright laughter ensued from the Shinigami. He closed his hand over Ulquiorra's nose and mouth, fingers digging into the arrancar's cheeks.

"You know, this is why I don't like it when my specimen can speak," he said. Ulquiorra remained still even though he could feel his lungs already screaming for air.

"I really didn't think you would have this much fight left in you. Look at yourself. Your will cannot stop nature." An extremely long fingernail trailed down Ulquiorra's front, pausing over the swell of his abdomen. The arrancar shuddered, turning his head and hoping to displace the man's other hand so that he might draw in some air. "There isn't much movement in here anymore is there? The fetus has dropped low and grown heavy. You must be feeling some uncomfortable pressure and aches, even contractions. I doubt you will reach the date I have set six weeks from now, so if I were you, I would make my escape plans quickly."

Ulquiorra tugged at his restraints. Why wouldn't this piece of shit let him breathe? The Shinigami stared at him with a most wicked grin for a few tortuous minutes before calmly removing his hands and stepping back.

"The mind is not my area of expertise, but I daresay you and your companion will prove to be quite fascinating. Unfortunately we must finish early. I'm going to return you now."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow looked up when he heard the screech of the cell door. He had woken up alone and, though he had no idea of the time that had passed, he had begun to fear that Ulquiorra would never be brought back.

"Stand back against the wall, arrancar," an unknown voice cut through the darkness, "Try anything and we will not hesitate to use our swords against you."

Slowly, Grimmjow did as he was told, chains creaking as he raised his hands above his head where they would be plainly visible. He watched as Ulquiorra was led to his corner and put back into his shackles. The guards left shortly after. Grimmjow heard the slam of the door and the click of the lock.

"Great timing. I was starting to go insane," Grimmjow said darkly. He felt Ulquiorra's eyes on him, but the other said nothing in reply.

**Lustful touches enticed sweet sounds from his mouth...sickening to his own ears, but encouraging to Grimmjow's. Sopping wet as they humped in the shallow water, skin making contact with skin, they held back their pleasure...their need to release. They both knew patience would make the release that much better. Ulquiorra was on his back now, propping himself up on his elbows, watching with lidded eyes as Grimmjow teased his entire body with his tongue, tasting what he hadn't tasted in so long. The smaller arrancar shuddered, sliding himself further underneath Grimmjow and grinding their hips together harmoniously. **

"May I sit next to you, Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra asked. The sixth espada found the question odd.

"Sure," he grunted anyway.

"Then you will have to come over here, my chains wont reach."

Grimmjow stood up and walked over, sitting down again a mere arm's length away.

"It's a pain in the ass having to meet in the middle."

"Perhaps. But this ensures that any contact is mutual. From our captor's standpoint, it would be a necessary precaution...considering what we are."

"Are they thinking if they leave us alone we might maul each other or something? That's damn insulting. I'm not nearly as bloodthirsty as half these Shinigami," Grimmjow spat. He glanced to his side at Ulquiorra.

"**I hate you so much sometimes Ulquiorra, but I still want you so. Fucking. Bad," Grimmjow said, drawing in the other man close as he thrust his now naked erection against Ulquiorra's hot lower body. Ulquiorra's breath caught, feeling Grimmjow's cock so close to his entrance and remembering how good it could feel to have that organ inside him. He nearly came at the thought. Grimmjow's teeth tore at the skin of his neck. Ulquiorra let loose a gutteral moan. **

Both arrancar stiffened when their fingers brushed. It was unclear who initiated the contact, but neither of them stopped it. They remained like that for a while before Grimmjow placed his hand on top of Ulquiorra's.

"Did they torture you for information?" he asked.

"No," Ulquiorra answered plainly. When he didn't elaborate, Grimmjow continued.

"Did you at least get an idea of where we are or who we're dealing with?"

"Not exactly."

"Did you learn _anything_?"

"Only that we have six weeks to escape."

"Six weeks? Is our execution date set?"

"No, it's just," Ulquiorra suddenly got a faraway look in his eyes, "In six weeks there will be three of us."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Perspiration and water dripped heavily from their bodies from their romp in the puddle. Ulquiorra couldn't help grabbing Grimmjow's shoulders and squeezing tightly as the other man penetrated him to his core. He writhed in the other man's embrace, meeting his thrusts with vigor, letting breathy moans escape his lips as he was pounded into. His feet dug deep into the cool sand beneath and his muscles clenched tightly around Grimmjow's arousal. **

**He took in the sensations...Grimmjow's hands as they kneaded his thighs and slid up his back...his hot mouth all over his neck...and his hard body moving against his own. It was bliss. It seemed in moments like these they were made for each other. Their bodies fit together so perfectly it had to be the work of a divine being. **

**His release was eminent. He threw back his head, his entire body going rigid. He held his breath while attempting to draw out the incredible feeling. The intensity of their lovemaking caused the orgasm to be almost painful. **

**Ulquiorra suddenly realized he was faced with a problem. He acted quickly, lifting his hand and catching Grimmjow's face with a vicious swipe.**

"**What the HELL!" yelled Grimmjow, holding his bleeding face. Ulquiorra pushed him away, hissing slightly as Grimmjow's still-hard cock left his body. Using sonido, he retrieved Murcielago. He unsheathed it and pointed it at his former mate.**

"**You fucking bastard," Grimmjow growled. He removed his hand from his face, regenerating the deep gashes on his skin and stood up. Ulquiorra backed away, not taking his eyes off the other man as he bent down and scooped his now-sleeping son into his free arm. **

"**One is enough, Grimmjow," was all he said before warping away with the sound of static, leaving Grimmjow standing in the shallow water bloody and completely unsatisfied.**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: I didn't notice how perfect Grimmjow and Ulquiorra are for each other until writing this chapter. Think about the words that release their zanpakutos. You can't get much more sexual than "grind" and "enclose".

Enough of my dirty musings. Enjoy the fanfic

Chapter 18

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Ulquiorra sighed contently while basking in the light of the large moon. The heat of the season inspired such laziness in him as he lay stretched out on a flat rock, taking in the moonlight. His green eyes stared blankly into the black sky and he blinked wearily every now and then, catching himself before he could fall into a peaceful slumber. **

**There was a small whimper from the baby napping on his chest and Ulquiorra automatically reached up to caress the soft blue fuzz on his head in a soothing manner. He unintentionally disturbed the sleeping infant with his exhale, tickling the sensitive cat ears and causing them to twitch in response. Blue eyes turned to him curiously. **

**Ulquiorra marveled at the child's stunning resemblance to Grimmjow. His eyes...his nose...his coloring...everything down to his tiny claws was the same. Ulquiorra could not find a hint of himself in his own child and it bothered him somewhat. Every time he looked at life he had helped to create he was forcefully reminded that the baby was not his alone. **

**He shut his eyes and it wasn't long before both of them drifted to sleep.**

**Ulquiorra was awoken by the sound of soft purring. While it was a sound he was quite used to hearing, something about it was off. When he opened his eyes, it was to look upon a man he had recently gone through great measures to avoid. **

"**How did you find me," he whispered. **

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Answer the question, arrancar, and no one has to get hurt."

"I don't know shit. How many times do I have to tell you people?"

Grimmjow gulped as the Shinigami captain reached for the branding iron in the coals of the fire. Drugged and heavily chained to the chair, he still anticipated the red hot metal against his skin.

Sweat dripped down Grimmjow's forehead as the seconds passed. When the iron was finally pulled away, Grimmjow let out the breath he had been holding, looking down on the collection of angry burns already in place on his body. A thin layer of skin slowly regenerated over it, but with the flow of his reiatsu interrupted, he wasn't able to do much more. He still felt the harsh stinging of the sizzling flesh.

"You can end it whenever you chose. All we want is a small bit of information."

For a very brief moment, Grimmjow hesitated. After about two weeks or so of physical torture, giving in was starting to sound nice. He and Ulquiorra were no closer to getting out now than the moment they first arrived. Constant surveillance and extremely limited time in the same cell had successfully prevented that. In fact he hadn't seen Ulquiorra in quite a few days, and since he'd taken out a large portion of one of the labs, he was far too doped up to remember their last conversations.

"Go...to hell," Grimmjow panted.

The Shinigami, Captain Kurotsuchi as he was called by his subordinates, let out a frustrated sigh and nodded to two of his underlings. They bowed and left the room without another word. Grimmjow waited expectantly while his tormentor inspected the tip of the hot iron with a most disappointed expression.

"You leave me no choice, arrancar," he set down the instrument and spoke into a communication device in his hand, "Nemu..." his crazed eyes bore into Grimmjow, "...bring in the dogs."

Hours later Grimmjow was returned to his cell. He awoke to the feeling of blood trickling down his forehead. Cracking his eyes open, he found himself staring up at Ulquiorra, whose fingers were on his pulse. He retracted them immediately.

"I was unsure whether you were alive or not," he explained, "Your injuries are rather severe." he reached out his hand to touch the oozing gashes on Grimmjow's chest...gashes made by a ferocious animal. Grimmjow swatted his hand away.

"Don't..." he growled harshly.

"Allow me to clean your wounds," Ulquiorra responded firmly. The sixth espada snarled. He did not want Ulquiorra to see him like this. He wanted to be left alone. He turned away willing the other to leave him be.

Grimmjow hissed when he felt something warm and wet tracing the deep bite on his shoulder. He lashed out, striking Ulquiorra across the face.

"Leave it!" Grimmjow shouted. Ulquiorra held his smarting cheek and, though he didn't look offended, Grimmjow felt the guilt creeping in.

Ulquiorra's hands returned Grimmjow to his position on his back and then held him down, leaving no room for escape. He brushed Grimmjow's torn jacket out of the way and leaned in. Grimmjow's eyes went wide. He stilled as Ulquiorra lowered his head, tongue darting out tentatively as he began to lap up the blood on his chest. The smaller espada proceeded to clean his every wound, both old and new, until he had nothing else to do with his tongue other than tickle Grimmjow's neck with it. Eventually, his lips were pressing against the skin in messy kisses and his hot breathing suggested Ulquiorra wanted more than to be his nurse.

"Did seeing my blood make you horny? Oh ho! You're more twisted than I thought."

Ulquiorra sat up, lips parted and panting slightly from the effort of hovering over Grimmjow for so long a period of time. There was a pink tinge to his cheeks.

"How vulgar," he responded, denying what was obvious. The sixth espada had to admit that he had never seen his companion look so endearing. Ulquiorra left his position straddling Grimmjow, but before he was able to put more than a few inches' distance between them, Grimmjow grabbed his arm.

"Stay here...and lie next to me."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"**You thought you could run from me," Grimmjow breathed. He was hot and aroused and angry reiatsu radiated off of him. Kneeling over Ulquiorra, he inhaled deeply, taking in the other's scent.** "**Let's get something straight, Ulquiorra: I will come inside you if I damn well please." **

**Ulquiorra tightened his arms around his dozing child and used sonido to escape Grimmjow's clutches. Now the two of them stood several yards apart. They glared at each other, turning the desert atmosphere cold.**

**The wind howled. Ulquiorra was first to break the silence.**

"**It would seem there is only one way to rid myself of you." He retreated further to set the baby down in a sheltered area and returned with Murcielago in his grip. "I will not go easy on you, Grimmjow."**

**Grimmjow laughed long and hard, a devilish smile upon his lips.**

"**You're living in the past, Ulquiorra. They days where you could defeat me are long gone. One way or another, I will make you submit to me."**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Time passed...or rather, slipped by. For Ulquiorra, the days were filled with needles and oxygen masks, drugs and scalpels...hours and hours of lying exposed beneath a harsh light as he was examined. Any scars on his body were purely surgical...unlike Grimmjow's.

He could only guess at what Grimmjow was being put through. They wouldn't see each other for days at a time and Grimmjow would always return with a fresh set of injuries. Simple beatings had morphed into more sophisticated torture that had led Ulquiorra to believe Grimmjow had been resolute in not revealing any strategic information to their enemies.

And yet, it was often hard to look upon a bruised face, a back covered in lashes or burn marks, or hands that had the fingernails ripped from the nailbeds. Such things wouldn't be a problem on anyone else, but for some reason seeing them on Grimmjow was different.

They became shells of their former selves, abandoning hope. They hardly talked after a certain point, simply sitting in the darkness, lost in their own thoughts.

Even during the time where they were in the cell they were tormented by hunger. At first Ulquiorra had thought their captors had simply forgotten to feed them, then he realized the truth. Unfortunately, Grimmjow had yet to figure it out.

"Hey, you bastards," Grimmjow finally rasped one day, speaking to a hidden camera, "If I don't get something to eat soon the next fool that sets foot in here might have to sacrifice a few limbs."

Ulquiorra chuckled darkly and Grimmjow glared at him, perhaps wondering if after so much silence he had lost his mind.

"What the hell is so funny?"

"Just that you haven't noticed."

"Noticed what?" Grimmjow growled. Ulquiorra let out a pained sigh as he felt his child shifting within its tight confines. He looked at Grimmjow.

"We haven't been chained. We can move around the cell as we please."

"Yeah?"

Ulquiorra scoffed, "You haven't thought about it even once? Am I _that_ unappetizing or are you just _that_ dim?"

Grimmjow's eyes widened as he was hit with the realization full force. He turned away immediately, stricken with anger that it had taken him so long to catch on. Leaning against the wall, he suddenly looked tired.

"I never knew these Shinigami could have such sick minds." His eyes slid over to Ulquiorra's "And...how many times have you thought about it?"

"More than I am comfortable admitting."

"I see..." said Grimmjow, seemingly understanding, "Then is this it? Is this where 'love' ends and the real monsters come out?"

Grimmjow had said it...the source of his inner turmoil. Oh how low he had fallen, refusing to partake in another hollow's flesh simply because they had mated. How could one man be so important that he would consider giving up his own life so that that man might survive?

"Here are your choices, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra said bluntly, "You can continue on by eating me. You can allow me to eat you. We can die together. Those are your options."

"You forgot one," Grimmjow replied, "We give them what they want."

"That..." Ulquiorra growled, "Is not an option."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"**Give it up, Grimmjow," said Ulquiorra as he blocked another cero, "You're strong, but not strong enough." He sauntered nearer, his gaze predatory. He flared his ominous black wings. He was a visage of cold beauty...a compliment to the surrounding darkness. **

"**Very few have had the privilege of seeing the abilities of my _resurreccion: segunda etapa,_" the former fourth added. He summoned a spear of lightning. It crackled in the heat, giving off a dangerous brightness that could only hint at its destructive power.**

"**Mmm aren't I a lucky guy?" Grimmjow responded dryly. He had only a few seconds to summon the necessary reiatsu to block the brunt of the attack. The explosion was enormous, ripping the very black from the sky. **

**Grimmjow rose from the crater. He knew if he'd been any less a hollow, he would now be dead. Once on his feet, he staggered, panting heavily. He could not deny that his body had taken a beating, more bruised and bloodied than it had been in a long time. It was thrilling. It made him even harder. His thoughts were interrupted by the terrified screams of a child. Both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra turned their heads, momentarily distracted by the crying babe.**

"**I think you've scared him, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow said. Ulquiorra seemed to be in some sort of pain. It was strange since he had sustained no visible damage thus far. The child cried harder, and when Ulquiorra covered his ears, quite suddenly, Grimmjow realized the screams could be felt in the air. It wasn't unlike his own roar, which could release powerful shockwaves. **

_**Interesting...**_

**Ulquiorra was a bat. Bats had superior hearing, able to detect even ultrasonic noises. The loud cries laced with a power inherited from Grimmjow were throwing off Ulquiorra's senses. And if a child's cry had rattled him this much, then the real thing...**

**Grimmjow opened his mouth and let out his earth-shattering roar. Sure enough, Ulquiorra was unable to withstand it, collapsing and writhing in agony. **

"**I never thought you could be defeated by something so simple," Grimmjow said. He knew now was the time to deal a finishing blow. Ulquiorra was his now...his to take and sully as he wished, and up until now he had wanted nothing more than to fuck him brutally and come deep in his body just to teach him a lesson, but for some reason he had lost interest. **

**Instead, he went to their sobbing baby and lifted him gently, cradling him in his arms and soothing away his fear. **

"**Good kid. We showed him, didn't we?" Grimmjow purred, "Tell me all of Mommy's secrets." He laughed**

**Ulquiorra had regained some sanity, but with his balance impaired, he could hardly manage a sitting position. He clawed at the ground in a furious attempt to get to Grimmjow once he realized what the other was about to do.**

"**Get your hands off...you have no right," Ulquiorra snarled. Grimmjow smirked. He was going to enjoy this even more than sex...he was going to enjoy seeing the look on Ulquiorra's face as he stole what was most precious to him. **

"**He's coming with me. If you want him back you'll have to come find me...at Las Noches."**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: This chapter was extremely refreshing to me. It was their rivalry and hatred that made me ship them in the first place. And I was shocked that while writing the fight scene I discovered Grimmjow had a power that Ulquiorra was almost sure to be weak to. Maybe that's why Grimmjow was always so confident about beating Ulquiorra in the anime. :)


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: I might as well warn you now. This chapter is 90% plot and 10% Grimmjow/Ulquiorra. So if ur only reading this story for the smex, then you may as well skip this one. Sorry peeps, it has to be done.

Chapter 19

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Spread out, search the place."

"There is absolutely nothing of interest down there, I assure you," Mayuri Kurotsuchi assured the other two captains as smoothly as he could. He was forced to watch while teams from the eighth and thirteenth squads invaded his building. He glared at his at his own squad members threateningly, as if reminding them the punishment they were in for as soon as this was over.

"The captain-commander has ordered an investigation of the research and development facilities," Kyoraku said, tipping his straw hat out of his face.

"Under what charges? The captain-commander has no reason to meddle in my research."

"We will see about that," Ukitake replied shortly. He waited patiently for Mayuri to step aside. When the other did so, he pushed past, his long white hair flowing behind him. Kyoraku followed in his wake.

The scientist ground his teeth silently. These two captains were wise to his tricks. He wouldn't be able to fool or distract them as he has always done with the others. They were too old, too sharp, and they were always, _always_ watching each other's backs.

Descending the stairs, none could deny the many different, and more importantly, foreign spiritual signatures felt ahead. Kyroku let out a low whistle.

"Just what were planning to do with all of these hollow? Start a petting zoo?" he asked.

"I wont attempt to explain my genius to the likes of you," the twelfth division captain huffed indignantly

"Your squad was assigned to give these hollows soul burials once captured. May I ask why you are still keeping them here? The law requires documentation of all surviving hollow held within Seiretei."

"I am aware of my squad's responsibilities and the laws," Mayuri snarled.

"Are you?" Kyoraku challenged, "You seem to be in violation of several of them."

Ukitake continued ahead, observing the cells filled with the tortured souls of the hollows, the frustration growing on his face. A mass breakout from here would cause pandemonium in all of Soul Society. It was simply too dangerous to brush aside.

Turning a corner, he came upon a door guarded by two Shinigami. They bowed to Ukitake hesitantly but their hands remained readied by their swords. Ukitake noticed that the door was protected by a barrier so strong that he doubted even he would be able to escape were he inside.

What could possibly need such precautions. What was behind that door?

"Open it," Ukitake said. The two nameless Shinigami sent each other frightened looks.

"Forgive us, Ukitake-taicho, but there is a procedure to opening this door, we cannot simply-"

"I said open it," Ukitake repeated.

"That would be incredibly foolish," Mayuri snorted after he and Kyoraku had finally caught up, "You enter my facilities without proper explanation, and confiscate important files...I cannot allow you to interrupt an experiment in progress."

"There are horrors lurking down here that Soul Society must be rid of," said Ukitake, "Open the door or I will do it myself."

Mayuri's lip curled in defeat. He was not ready to turn over his finest specimens. But he was also not stupid enough to pick a fight with all of Seireitei. He motioned for his subordinates to open the door.

In the darkness, the two figures were huddled up together in the corner, sharing in each other's warmth. They looked small, weak, and oh-so-very human. Ukitake was fooled immediately, his emotions swayed by their helplessness and the thought of the things that they were being put through. He stepped forward but Kyoraku put a hand on his shoulder.

"Stop," Kyoraku said warningly, "Look closer, Ukitake."

Two cold pairs of eyes, one green and one blue, turned to stare at those intruding in the cell. With a full view of their faces, Ukitake and Kyoraku could see the remnants of their masks and feel the reiatsu that was distinctly hollow.

"They are arrancar," Kyoraku said, staring at them in disbelief. He thought back to his fight with the _Primera._ Kyoraku shuddered, remembering that he had escaped, barely alive, and still had the scars from the battle. Were these two espada as well? If so, how had Kurotsuchi managed to capture them?

"To think you were hiding something so dangerous," Ukitake rounded on Mayuri, "This is inexcusable!" The scientist merely shrugged in a completely uncaring manner.

"Easy, Ukitake," interrupted Kyoraku, "This matter is out of our hands now. We must inform the captain-commander." He looked uneasily to the two arrancar, "And there is no question that these...things must be moved. If they remain in within the jurisdiction of the twelfth squad they are a security risk."

"Hmph," Mayuri snorted, "There is no other facility aside from the Central 46's underground prison that can hold spiritual beings of their level. They must remain here."

"There is one place," Kyoraku reminded, breaking Mayuri's air of smugness, "A place you know very well as a matter of fact. The Nest of Maggots."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow was no idiot. He'd had a feeling that there was tension between the thirteen Shinigami squads just like between the espada. Just because they fought for the same cause didn't make them friends...not in the slightest.

And this Kurotsuchi captain, well he certainly was a sneaky one. Grimmjow had gathered that most of what he did was under the radar. He wasn't all that concerned with the political situation, he was happy just playing with his knives and his poison.

So Grimmjow knew, now that the Shinigami's central command had been informed of the two arrancar that were being kept right beneath their noses, everything was about to change for the worse. Was defending Aizen really worth his own life?

It was time to decide.

"Where the hell are you taking us?" Grimmjow growled. He and Ulquiorra were chained together like animals, both physically and with kido, drugged and blindfolded while they made their shameful walk in the darkness to their new prison. The detail that escorted them was made up of an estimated twenty Shinigami, all of them scared shitless.

"Do not speak, hollow."

Grimmjow felt a harsh yank on the chains. When he stumbled, Ulquiorra did as well, falling against his back. Grimmjow could hear his panting and feel his body trembling with fatigue. They'd been walking for quite some time. Ulquiorra probably needed a break, but Grimmjow knew better than to ask for one.

They entered a cave-like place, their footsteps echoing as they descended stone steps. Grimmjow could now see light from behind the blindfold. They stopped and he and Ulquiorra were ordered to get on the ground. The restraints restricting their movement were suddenly taken away, but the ones limiting their reiatsu were left in place. Their escort of Shinigami left them without another word, the large doors creaking shut behind them.

Grimmjow discarded his blindfold. His eyes widened when he realized...

...he was standing in a room full of people.

They stared openly, all of them curious of the new prisoners that required so large of an escort, the new prisoners who looked like them, but had an evil reiatsu surrounding them.

Ulquiorra slowly rose to his feet, flexing his fingers and moving his now-unshackled wrists throughout their whole range of motion, as if testing his freedom. He scanned the crowd before him, his pupils dilating. Grimmjow had never seen quite so frightening a look upon Ulquiorra's face.

"Oi," he warned quietly, "Don't do nothin stupid." He put his hand on Ulquiorra's shoulder. Green eyes glared at him, burning him with their intensity.

"Do not stop me, Grimmjow!" Ulquiorra snarled. The desperation in his voice caused Grimmjow to remove his hand and step back.

There was a blood-curdling scream followed by a fountain of gushing red liquid as Ulquiorra ruthlessly tore into one of their fellow inmates. Flesh was ripped from bone and organs pulled from an open chest. The poor man's cries were silenced when Ulquiorra finally decided to break his neck. After a few moments of obscene slurping noises, Ulquiorra rose, panting and with blood dripping from his mouth. He fixed the room with a hard stare, eyes boring into every terrified face, letting each of them know they were but sheep locked inside a cage with a very hungry wolf.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Mayuri Kurotsuchi, if this were not a time of war you would be stripped of captaincy for your blatant disregard of the rules. The Central 46 had decided to put your trial on hold in favor of the current situation," Yamamoto announced to Mayuri and the rest of the gathered captains in his all-commanding voice.

The scientist inclined his head slightly to appear grateful to the old man, but his eyes remained narrowed in annoyance.

"Now we are faced with the matter of what to do with these arrancar," Yamamoto continued.

"Where are the beasts being kept?" Kenpachi asked, sounding bored, "I'll take care of them quickly and painfully."

"That is out of the question," Soi-fon interjected, "They may hold information vital to winning the war against Aizen. Right now they are being held in The Nest of Maggots."

"Hold on..." said Komamura, "Are we planning to keep these arrancar alive, using the blood of our own?" The room fell into a brief awkwardness.

"Would you rather feed them members of your own squad?" Byakuya asked quietly, "It is only temporary, until we can extract the information that we need. Then we can dispose of them."

"Hmmm," interrupted Mayuri thoughtfully, causing all heads to turn in his direction, "I believe you are underestimating those arrancar. They are quite stubborn. If my methods have not worked thus far, what makes you think you can do any better?" Byakuya sent the man a glare but decided not to begin an argument.

"From what your subordinates tell me, you've only interrogated one of them," Soi-fon said.

"Correct," answered Mayuri, "I have enough experience in this field to know when a man will die before he talks, and besides that I should really like to get a look at that arrancar's spawn before killing him."

"Oh my," Unohana said, finally speaking up, "A hollow pregnancy?"

"I believe these two arrancar are a mated pair, actually," Mayuri replied.

"How rare." Unohana's eyes had lit up. "I too am intrigued, and no one in their right mind should harm an unborn child."

"What is wrong with you people? They are hollows! They would tear us limb from limb and then eat us, given the chance!" Kenpachi responded angrily.

"They are our natural enemies," added Toshiro, "They do not deserve the same kindness and sympathy we give our own race."

The room was silenced by the pound of Yamamoto's staff upon the wooden floor. Kyoraku and Ukitake, who had been in the middle of a heated conversation between themselves looked up.

"Do the two of you have something to share?" Yamamoto asked. Ukitake merely stared at the ground. Kyoraku cleared his throat.

"Every captain in this room has crossed blades with an arrancar, but does any of us know much about them? We've fought hollows all our lives, slaughtering them like animals, but arrancar seem to be completely different. They are far from dumb brutes. Ukitake and I fought Aizen's _primera_ espada as a team, unaware until late in the battle that the two arrancar were actually one. We were shocked by how much these arrancar cared for each other. We, like everyone else, made the mistake in assuming a hollow could not feel human emotion."

"Make your point, Kyoraku," Yamamoto said impatiently.

"Kurotsuchi-taicho wouldn't have considered this type of torture for a hollow..." Kyoraku hesitated and Ukitake, who had been looking extremely uncomfortable until now, spoke up.

"No Kyoraku-"

"Perhaps if we threaten the one arrancar with the life of his mate and child, it will loosen his tongue," Kyoraku finished.

"Not this arrancar," Mayuri replied, "Threats won't be enough. And I don't want my perfect specimen damaged, so unless you are prepared to administer the torture yourself..." he smiled quite evilly at Kyoraku, knowing full well the man hadn't the stomach for such a thing. Nor did Ukitake, Unohana, Toshiro, Komamura or even Soi-fon (as tough as the bitch acted). Byakuya wouldn't dare dirty his hands with that sort of deed so that only left...

"I'll do it," Kenpachi offered.

"This simpleton doesn't know the difference between an ax and a nail-clipper," Mayuri sniffed, "He doesn't possess the refinement needed for information extraction."

"EHH? I think I might have some wax in my ear," Kenpachi answered, "because I thought I just heard you ask to die."

"If wax was your only problem, I might actually consider you worth something."

"SILENCE," Yamamoto roared, "Mayuri Kurotsuchi, under the supervision of Shunsui Kyoraku and Jushiro Ukitake, you will force the arrancar to talk using any methods necessary, and when you are done you will deal with them as you would any other hollow. Do I make myself clear?"

His tone left no room for argument.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: I wasn't going to delve much into the gotei 13, but I felt it was necessary to better explain the point at which this story became AU. The hueco mundo arc still happened but basically the Shinigami got their asses handed to them by the arrancar.

And if you haven't noticed, Kyoraku/Ukitake is another one of my favorite bleach pairings. It's so totally canon too!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**Ulquiorra was a man who might be able to recite the definition of "friend", but who never cared to own any. People fell into one of two categories. They were either "useful" or they were an "enemy". It wasn't until Grimmjow came along that a third category was opened up, "lover", but even he was a far cry from "friend".**

**And yet Ulquiorra was not about to assault the great fortress that was Las Noches single-handedly. Fortunately, the two men he knew he could rely on came right to him.**

**It was a new moon that night, casting the Hueco Mundo into even further darkness. Ulquiorra sat upon the cliff overlooking the vast desert, staring in the direction of the castle. He pulled Murcielago from its sheath, noticing that he hadn't been caring for it properly as he looked upon the dark blood still staining the blade.**

**Slowly, he brought the blade to his mouth and slid his tongue down the razor-sharp edge, curious of its flavor. It tasted of Grimmjow...Grimmjow's blood. He shuddered, thinking of the things he would do when he got his hands on that loathsome man. He'd sacrificed too much to have that child and he wasn't about to let Grimmjow steal him away.**

"**This aura of blood-lust..." came a voice behind Ulquiorra, "It excites even a shinigami like myself. Allow me to accompany you to Las Noches. And though I refuse to takes sides while both are enemies, I can't pass up a chance to behead a few arrancar."**

"**Then I shall come as well," a second voice responded from the darkness over Ulquiorra's other shoulder, "Ever since my departure I have longed to raze those white walls to the ground and return things to the way they once were."**

**Ulquiorra stood up, his eyes still trained ahead as he sheathed Murcielago.**

"**This fight is between myself and Grimmjow Jeagerjacks. Don't get in my way."**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

"Get up, arrancar."

Grimmjow cracked open his eyes to see that wretched shinigami scientist standing in his view. He looked extremely displeased, his painted face set in a deep scowl.

In his arms, Ulquiorra stirred. They had fallen asleep together some time ago, wrapped up in each other without shame.

The shinigami captain motioned to his subordinates. Grimmjow grew confused when they grabbed Ulquiorra instead, clamping on the cuffs that were usually mean for him.

Grimmjow let the smaller man slip out of his arms, catching the slightly surprised look on his face. It seemed that Ulquiorra hadn't been expecting this either.

They left Grimmjow alone for a few hours, making him wonder about the change in routine...and about what was being done to Ulquiorra. Gruesome images invaded his head involuntarily and, more than once, Grimmjow was forced to calm his racing imagination.

Later that day or night, one could not quite tell from within the cave-like walls, Grimmjow was visited by the two shinigami from the day before. Both captains, he presumed. One elegant looking man with long, white hair and a grave expression and one rather mangy man who wore a flowery kimono draped over his shoulders. The latter greeted Grimmjow warmly.

"Good evening, Arrancar-san," his smile was enough for Grimmjow to knit his brow in suspicion, "Would you please come with us for a moment?"

It was posed as a question, but Grimmjow was put in the usual restraints. He was led out of the room and down a long, winding corridor.

"I'm sick of 'good cop, bad cop'," Grimmjow sighed, "If we're gonna play, lets play something else."

The two shinigami were far from amused. They didn't respond to Grimmjow's taunt, their faces remaining serious.

They directed Grimmjow through a door. He was strapped to a chair facing a flickering monitor.

"I don't know what's on the agenda for today," began Grimmjow, "but I've pretty much seen it all. How about we skip the questions and move right on to the punishment?"

Grimmjow shut up abruptly when the monitor before him was suddenly showing him an image of Ulquiorra lying on a table and connected to many electrical wires. The low voice of Captain Kurotsuchi spoke from the speakers, too quiet to comprehend, but Grimmjow got the gist of what was happening.

"You're wasting your time," Grimmjow said, "He won't talk, not in a million years."

"We are aware," the white-haired shinigami answered, "We are more interested in you."

"Arrancar-san, he is your lover, correct?" the scruffy captain asked, his thumb pointing in the direction of the screen. Grimmjow only chuckled.

"I see what your trying to do. It ain't gonna work," the sixth espada replied.

"No?" the hairier shinigami drawled, hand stroking the stubble on his chin, "Don't you care what happens to him at all?"

In the background, Grimmjow caught a static voice from the monitor.

"...being uncooperative. We'll have to turn up the voltage..." Kurotsuchi was saying. Ulquiorra stared ahead, not particularly affected by what was happening. If he was in pain, he was doing an excellent job hiding it.

"Not one bit," Grimmjow found the words escaping his mouth instinctively...before he could stop them. The two shinigami exchanged a look.

"Isn't that _your _child he's carrying?"

"Who knows?" said Grimmjow, a naughty smile cracked on his lips. The white-haired shinigami, who Grimmjow could tell hadn't liked him from the start, grew quickly irritated.

"Perhaps we expected too much from him, Kyoraku. What kind of monster doesn't care about his own child?"

"Ukitake..." sighed the other man.

Grimmjow had heard the insult, but he didn't immediately respond. The three of them fell silent, watching the increasingly disturbing scene on the monitor.

"...you won't enjoy this..."

"Do your worst," was Ulquiorra's clear reply. And for a moment he merely laid there with his eyes closed...Then his eyebrows drew together in a pained expression...he bared his clenched teeth. Finally he turned his head to the side, letting out a sharp gasp.

"Ch..." began Grimmjow, "We knew what we were getting into. It was just a damn job after all."

"What was a job?" prodded Kyoraku. Grimmjow clamped his mouth shut. "A job Aizen assigned you?"

"Keep trying, Shinigami," Grimmjow answered in a low voice. His eyes were still on Ulquiorra, whose restraints kept him from convulsing too strongly. He panted for several minutes following the induced seizure, eyes now disoriented. If they kept this up, Ulquiorra wouldn't be coherent enough to talk. But then again, this was meant to be Grimmjow's torture more than Ulquiorra's.

"He may die before he talks," Kyoraku agreed, "But would you be willing to let that happen?"

Grimmjow thought hard. Certainly, at least from a hollow standpoint, he and Ulquiorra didn't deserve this...didn't deserve to die. Grimmjow had his honor. He'd done honorable things in his life...for his fraccion...for Ichigo Kurosaki and that human woman...for Ulquiorra.

And Ulquiorra, well Grimmjow wasn't all that sure what his past had been like, but he had to admit that he'd turned out to be a cool guy...in his own way. And all he seemed to care about now was that damn kid. These shinigami bastards were bluffing. They wouldn't kill him. He shouldn't have to die when all he wanted anymore was to hold his damn kid. For some reason, the thought was deeply upsetting.

"It was just a job," Grimmjow repeated, more to himself than the others. The shinigami could see his resolve slipping away.

"We will give you some time to make your decision," Kyoraku said. He and his friend left the room...left Grimmjow listening to Ulquiorra receive a backwards version of shock therapy.

A frustrated noise somewhere between a growl and a scream escaped Ulquiorra's lips, and Grimmjow was amazed he had even remained silent this long.

"God..." Grimmjow whispered, averting his eyes from the screen, unable to watch any longer.

Aizen wasn't worth this. Plain and simple. At least not to Grimmjow. Ulquiorra could think what he wanted, but to Grimmjow, enough was enough.

The two shinigami returned twenty or so minutes later.

"Tell me one thing," said Grimmjow quietly while staring at the floor, "Does he know about this yet?"

"Your mate is unaware that we are watching him right now. He does not know that his own actions might be influencing you."

"Good, then let's keep it that way," Grimmjow answered, "I don't want him getting the wrong idea."

"That you like him? Or perhaps that he is your weakness?"

Grimmjow snarled, but was unable to deny it.

"Hmm..." said Kyoraku, looking thoughtful, "You arrancar certainly are strange creatures."

Grimmjow had nothing to say to that. Let Ulquiorra think him a coward and a traitor, but let him never, ever think him weak.

"Just get him to stop," Grimmjow nodded toward the monitor, "and I'll tell you as much as I know. I can tell you names and ranks, the layout of Las Noches, the location of the Hogyoku, but if you wanna know stuff like where Aizen takes his shits, I might not be able to help you."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

It didn't take long for an agreement to be worked out. Grimmjow divulged many of Aizen's closely guarded secrets to the man's former coworkers. Somehow it was oddly satisfying.

Shortly after, he demanded to be allowed to see Ulquiorra. Because of his cooperation, his request was granted without much hassle. They led Grimmjow to the medical wing where Ulquiorra was still being held, and let him go in alone and with free use of his hands.

Ulquiorra was unconscious, but perhaps that was for the best. Wires were still attached to his forehead and his wrists were bloody where the restraints had cut into them after he'd struggled for so long. Grimmjow freed him and shifted him into a more comfortable position.

"Don't you fucking look at me like that," Grimmjow said to him quietly, fully aware that he was talking to someone who wasn't awake, "We both knew it was coming. At least this way, you can blame it all on me. You can be alive and have the kid just like you fucking wanted."

Grimmjow took the man into his arms. His fingers stroked Ulquiorra's pale cheek before slipping into his dark hair. It was that same face that he always hated, always wanted to hurt, but now he realized that he wanted to be the only person to hurt Ulquiorra. He lifted Ulquiorra's head.

"You're like a damn princess, Ulquiorra. All untouchable...all high and mighty, but this is the last time I'm gonna do something for you, ya hear?"

"Ah," Ulquiorra breathed softly, and Grimmjow was aware that he might have shaken him too hard. Brushing black hair out of his face, Grimmjow leaned down and kissed him with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Consciousness was slow to come to Ulquiorra. For the first time in weeks, he could feel his full reiatsu. The haze of the drugs and the weight of the barriers were gone. His eyes only opened to more darkness. Sitting against a tree, he could hear the buzz of nocturnal insects, smell earthy smells of grass and leaves. He could feel soft dirt beneath his fingers. It had been so long since he'd been outside.

"I don't mean to rush you, Ulquiorra-san, but we are in a bit of a hurry."

Ulquiorra turned to head, ignoring the painful ache in every muscle of his body, to look upon the faces of the two shinigami captains.

"The gate to the Hueco Mundo won't stay open for long, I suggest you take the chance while we are offering it," the one with brown hair said warmly.

"Ulquiorra..." Ulquiorra said, his eyes narrowing to slits.

"That is your name, isn't it?" the other shinigami asked, "Ulquiorra Cifer, Aizen's fourth espada."

Ulquiorra stood up slowly, not answering. His sword was held out for him to take, but he only stared at it.

"I see Grimmjow had decided to throw his lot in with the shinigami. What has he promised you?"

"Victory, at the very least," the unkempt man replied, smiling sadly, "But you don't seemed surprised."

"He never devoted himself to Aizen-sama the way the rest of us did," the fourth espada said without emotion, "I should have killed him while I had the chance." He took Murcielago from the other's grasp, weighing it in his palm for a moment. He thought about drawing it, but rationalized that he wouldn't be able to take on two captains without endangering the life he carried. He looked over to the portal that would return him to the Hueco Mundo.

"Why?" he asked, "Even if you release me, I won't show you mercy the next time we meet."

"If we must meet on the battlefield at a later time, then I will look forward to it," the friendlier captain said, almost laughing. Ulquiorra didn't see what he could possibly find so funny. "But we think that right now, you should just go home to your friends and family...if you have them."

Friends? Friends were for the weak, Ulquiorra thought as his mind briefly went to the other espada and their fraccions. Ulquiorra had no friends. And family? He had no blood relatives if that was what the shinigami had meant. Even if he had, the Hueco Mundo was a place where brothers ate brothers.

The fitful squirming of the child in his belly reminded him that he wasn't quite so alone, and that he soon would have a 'family' whether he wanted to call it that or not.

"While I consider your decision foolish, I am reluctant to waste this opportunity," Ulquiorra said. He stood before the entry into his world, looking over his shoulder at two people who'd shown him a kindness that would never be appreciated.

"Goodbye, Shinigami."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"**Hold still, will ya?"**

**The demon child attempted escape again, but Grimmjow grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him back onto his lap. For that, he was awarded with fresh tears.**

"**Quite yer crying! Dirty kittens need baths," Grimmjow insisted. But that didn't seem to get him anywhere. The little thing couldn't walk or talk, but still managed to be a brat. It was more than Grimmjow could handle. The kid missed Ulquiorra, Ulquiorra probably missed the kid, and Grimmjow was sick of both at this point. **

"**Here," Grimmjow grunted. He handed his katana to his son, "Play with this."**

**The crying stopped abruptly as the child stared with wide eyes at Pantera. He put his little hands on the bright blue sheath, working hard to lift the heavy sword. Grimmjow proceeded to bathe the child with his tongue - something he'd never felt the need to do to anyone else.**

**When he was finished, he leaned back to admire his work. Blue baby hair stuck up in every direction.**

"**You look damn good, kid," Grimmjow beamed. **

**Sol wasn't having it. He reached up and flattened his hair back down furiously, before returning his attention to the sword. **

"**Little shit..." the father growled, "Should I spank him or something?" He looked up, addressing the room's other occupant for the first time.**

"**How should I know?" came the annoyed response, "Anyway, is it ok that your letting him play with something so dangerous?"**

"**What's the worst that could happen?"**

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**

A/N: hmmm they make a pair of adorable kittys, don't they? Review please? puriti pureasu?


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: To answer someone's question, baby bats are called "pups" and baby panthers are called "cubs" which is why, depending on whose point of view I am writing in, Sol is sometimes called both.

Warning! This chapter might be a bit graphic/disturbing to some

Chapter 21

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ulquiorra sat in a rocky alcove, resting in the cool shade, happy to have found shelter from the moon's rays. It felt strange to be back in the Hueco Mundo after so long. He was free now, but he was uncertain of what to make of this freedom. It had already been several days, but Ulquiorra had yet to decide what to do with himself.

Aizen must know by now that he and Grimmjow had been taken captive by the shinigami, and there was no telling how forgiving he would be about such a thing. And so, Ulquiorra had put off returning to Las Noches and atoning for his mistakes. He wouldn't slink back like a dog with its tail between its legs.

But the desert and the surrounding life was hostile. Fending for himself out in the desert hadn't been that great of an alternative thus far. Perhaps he had become too pampered. Perhaps he shouldn't have spent his days holed up in the castle.

His thought process was interrupted abruptly. His eyebrows suddenly drew together in the slightest expression of discomfort as the muscles of his lower abdomen tightened painfully.

_And this as well..._

His hands slid over his rotund midsection. Because food was plentiful now, the infant in his womb had nearly doubled in size. He felt sluggish these days, what with the restricted range of motion and the added toll on his strength that came with carrying around a weight that was not his own.

The child was heavy, and by now was sitting deep in his pelvis. While Ulquiorra had little knowledge about things like nesting, he was aware of the urge to find a dark, sheltered place to settle until this was all over with.

Somewhere quiet...cool...and preferably soft...

He ignored the feeling, logic telling him that staying in a single place for too long was dangerous. Of course, this put him at a loss, for at the rate these contractions were happening, it certainly wouldn't be long...

Until now, he'd always pictured himself at Las Noches for this. There would be no privacy, Aizen had said so himself. His fellow espada would bear witness to the birth of a fellow arrancar. Grimmjow would have been there, of course. Unwillingly. Ulquiorra had listened to him attempt to weasel out of attendance several times.

He stopped himself before his mind could drag up fond memories of the rogue sexta, cursing internally.

Somehow, he couldn't help but blame the man for all of his current misfortunes, even though he, himself, had chosen Grimmjow as his mate, and he had _allowed _the pregnancy to occur.

While trenched deep in his anger Ulquiorra hadn't realized the presence hidden in the shadows. His ears picked up a sharp whistling...the unmistakable sound of metal cutting through air. His eyes widened.

In just enough time, he held up his arms, stopping the curved blade from slicing into his neck. He realized he was stuck. The crescent-shaped scythe had been thrown with enough strength to bury itself into the solid rock behind him. Blood dripped onto the blade from where it had cut deep into Ulquiorra's forearms.

"Look what we have here," Nnoitora stepped slowly into Ulquiorra's line of vision. He addressed the man imprisoned by his zanpakuto."You've become so weak I almost didn't recognize you."

"Nnoitora," Ulquiorra acknowleged, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Meaning? There is no meaning. You should know by now that I just want to hurt you," the fifth espada replied, "None of us have seen you in a while. Aizen wouldn't say nothing about where you've been, but there were rumors, of course." He stepped forward, shoving his blade deeper with a sadistic smile. Ulquiorra could feel the metal slicing through his bones. "You and Grimmjow have been getting pretty cozy lately, haven't you? Cozy with the enemy."

Ulquiorra merely gave him a flat look. He wasn't about to waste time telling Nnoitora the whole story.

"But where's you're mate now, cuatro?" Nnoitora asked, his eyes scanning the area, "Has he abandoned you? Maybe found something else to fuck?"

Ulquiorra was silent, Nnoitora's words rattling him more than he would have liked. A dark realization was slow to break upon him. He'd never asked Grimmjow to protect him, but through these months he'd come to rely on the man all the same. Grimmjow's presence had been enough to keep arrancar like Nnoitora and Szayel away, but now...

Nnoitora could very well kill him.

It was a sickening feeling...the fear for one's own life. And not one that Ulquiorra often had to contend with. But as he sat there trapped against the wall and dripping blood onto Nnoitora's scythe, the terrifying feeling completely overcame him.

His face remained impassive but he couldn't help curling into a more defensive position, thinking about the life of his unborn pup. Nnoitora laughed at the display. He stuck out his tongue so that Ulquiorra was staring at his gothic 'five'. A golden cero grew from the tip.

Just then, there was a flash of light and Nnoitora was struck in the back. Chains summoned via kido spell were suddenly wrapping around his body. He easily dispersed them and growled furiously, turning to face the intruder.

Ulquiorra recognized the face of the shinigami he'd met just before following Grimmjow into Soul Society. Why was he here? Why had he chosen to get himself involved?

Nnoitora threw out a few curse words and immediately engaged the shinigami in battle, perhaps thinking it would be an easy victory. Ashido was far more agile, and after Nnoitora was sufficiently distracted, Ulquiorra began working to free himself.

Attempting to force the scythe from the rock would only end up severing both of Ulquiorra arms. Instead, he slid one arm down the blade, peeling flesh from bone in the process. He reached for Murcielago, which was lying a few feet away. If only his fingers could grasp the handle. He leaned, feeling the sharp edge of Santa Teresa cut into his neck.

He was forced to stop when his labor pains returned, equally as agonizing as the raw wounds from Nnoitora's scythe. Clutching his belly, he felt a sudden wetness seeping through his clothes and despaired.

Not here. He couldn't stay here. He needed to leave while he still could. He breathed harshly, a foreign panic setting in. Making a split second decision, he turned his head, allowing the blade to slice his jugular rather than his trachea, and managed to grab hold of Murcielago. He lost precious blood in the moment it took to unsheathe the damn sword and finally free himself.

Wounds regenerated, he disappeared from the scene with the help of his sonido, leaving the shinigami who'd just saved his life to the mercy of Nnoitora.

He quickly came upon the menos forest and did not hesitate upon entering. Nnoitora, or anyone for that matter, would be hard-pressed to follow him inside. Light did not reach him so deep underground and Ulquiorra wandered further, uncaring if lost his way. He was reluctant to stop for any reason, but occasionally the pain became too intense to do anything but stand there and hold his breath. The darkness pressed down on him as he searched, not only for a decent hiding spot, but a suitable place to give birth as well.

He managed to find a small cave deep within the dense forest. From the leftover reiatsu signatures, it seemed someone already lived there, but Ulquiorra walked in with Murcielago in hand, fully prepared to make the place his own. Inside, he was met with a hollow considerably more dangerous than what he'd expected.

"It's rude to enter another's home with your sword drawn," the hollow greeted, stepping into the half-light where Ulquiorra might be able to see him. His voice had sounded eerily familiar, but his hair was all Ulquiorra needed to recognize him. No other arrancar had an orange afro.

"Arrancar 107," noted Ulquiorra, his voice tight as he attempted to remain formal. He had not anticipated running into a priveron espada. He raised Murcielago...

...and was stunned as it was promptly knocked from his grip. Ulquiorra backed a few steps, suddenly very aware of how weak he was right now.

"My, how the tables have turned," commented Gantenbainne Mosqueda as he advanced upon Ulquiorra, forcing the other to back against the wall. His eyes slid over the fourth espada's body, taking in his pitiful condition. "You looked to be with child the day you came to execute me, but I wasn't certain. It seemed impossible that a cold motherfucker like you knew how to breed."

"This child, as well as your death, were simple orders given to me by Aizen," If the man was upset, it was understandable. All Ulquiorra could do was pray that he had the heart not to take his revenge tonight.

Ulquiorra panted as he felt the onset of another contraction. His hand held his belly and his other grasped the wall behind him, but his eyes never left the priveron espada's.

"Is it Grimmjow's?"

"That is none of your business," Ulquiorra replied.

"It is," insisted Gantenbainne in a deadly voice, holding up his fist with his claw-type zanpakuto. He held it at Ulquiorra's throat. "I am indebted to Grimmjow, but not to you."

For a moment, the smaller espada was silent.

"Grimmjow and I are mated," Ulquiorra finally conceded, the words tasting bad on his tongue, "The child is his."

Gantenbainne dropped his threatening stance at once. He walked past Ulquiorra to the cave's entrance.

"Then you may remain here and do as nature bids. I will keep watch outside."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

He forced himself to breathe. It was difficult. He couldn't seem to draw in enough air. He was aware of the stinging pain in his nether regions. It was intense, growing more potent by the minute, never giving him reprieve.

He had already discovered that no matter how he chose to sit or lay, whether he was pacing or crouched over, he simply could not escape the tight pain that wracked his body in shorter and shorter intervals.

He tried to remain silent. He'd dealt with pain far worse than this countless times before. He could shoulder it, learn from it, make himself stronger because of it.

But it seemed to stretch on forever. The moon had dipped over the horizon by now, leaving Ulquiorra wondering just how many hours he had been at this. Fear blossomed in his chest, making him second guess himself, making him delirious, making him wonder if perhaps he would suffer forever.

The shinigami, Ashido, had found his hiding place eventually. If he had been expecting a 'thank you' from Ulquiorra then he was sorely mistaken. Having nothing better to do, Ulquiorra listened to Gantenbainne confront Ashido. They fought briefly, but upon discovering they were more or less on the same side they put their weapons away and went quiet once more.

Ulquiorra needed to be alone...of that much he was certain. So when the ignorant shinigami stepped into his den, he bared his teeth without reason.

"Leave," Ulquiorra commanded him, "Now."

"It doesn't seem right to let you labor by yourself."

"I do not need help or pity. Either you leave or you die," Ulquiorra said. His tone left no room for argument. Ashido seemed to understand, albeit reluctantly. He left the cave and once more, Ulquiorra felt an extreme loneliness.

There was only one man he wanted. But that man had shown his true colors, finally becoming the traitor Ulquiorra had always suspected him to be...

And yet, if he ignored all that...went back to before they had taken that unfortunate trip to Soul Society...

He might have even asked that Grimmjow stay awake with him through the night. He could imagine soothing words being spoken in his ear in that low, rumbling voice. Perhaps his presence might have eased his suffering, cause him to even welcome the pain that would bring to life the child of the man he held such strange feelings for.

Cruel world...

Ulquiorra was hunched against the hard wall, staring at the stalactites and the slow drip of fluid onto the cave floor.

His hakama were soiled with blood and an unknown substance. He tore them off in haste, realizing they were in the way more than anything else. He was long-since drenched in sweat, and took the opportunity to remove any other clothing as well.

He fell onto his hands and knees, the urge to bear down and push overcoming him. He could feel the pressure between his legs, and think with heart-stopping clarity what it meant. He would be delivering Grimmjow's child in a simple cave in the forest...by himself.

He opened his mouth, but then thought better than to cry out. His lips met gravel and his tongue tasted dirt as he bit down hard, letting his body take over. After all, it seemed to know what it was doing...even when Ulquiorra felt so utterly lost and hopeless.

He stood up again, gripping the wall so tightly that he could feel his fingernails breaking. Maybe he could count on gravity to help him. His body seized once more and he leaned forward, praying that this would all end soon and that he might be relieved of this burden that sapped his strength. His hair fell in his face, sticking to his neck and cheeks.

Even then, he was forced to endure a few more excruciating minutes before finally feeling the thing leave his body. He didn't think to catch it, and spent a good long time regaining his breath before finally looking upon his creation.

It wasn't moving. It wasn't making any sounds. It was simply laying there on the dirty ground, covered in red slime and curled into a tiny ball.

So small. It was hardly believable that such a being could exist. Ulquiorra bit his lip, troubled.

Was he even alive? Had all of that been in vain?

Ulquiorra's trembling hands lifted the still child from his bed of earth. The scent was overwhelming. The scent...was his own. This child was _his._

Without thinking, he began to lick. He licked the baby's tiny nose and mouth, unconsciously clearing his airways.

A small choke led to screaming; the raw screaming of an infant in its first moments of life. It startled Ulquiorra so immensely that he had to tighten his hold before he dropped the upset child.

"No..." Ulquiorra breathed, "No, don't cry." He didn't like the sound. His child shouldn't have to cry. He brought the baby to his chest in an effort to keep him warm and calm his frightened cries. He cleaned him best he could, revealing a full head of bright blue hair and a pair of fuzzy feline ears still plastered to his head. His screams had reduced to pathetic mews. His eyes were half-opened, not yet adjusted to the living world.

They were blue.

Luckily, they could not yet see the despair written on Ulquiorra's face. Nor the anger. Nor the regret or longing.

_What sort of punishment is this? How am I supposed to care for a child that looks so much like him?_

He held the baby close nonetheless, nuzzling his cheek against that soft, azul hair.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: Finally! Right? I've been wanting to do this chapter for probably about a year now. Not exactly your typical, happy birth scene, but let me know what you think ;)


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: I was pleasantly surprised with how well this chapter came together. After this chapter, the story has caught up with itself, meaning that the final unbolded part is the last thing that happens before the prologue.

Chapter 22

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Theirs was a reluctant sort of partnership. Arrancar and shinigami, forced by strange circumstances to tolerate each others presence.

Gantenbainne did not know the name of this shinigami, and he did not care to learn it. He could see that the shinigami felt much the same way towards him. However, they couldn't deny the one thing they had in common.

It seemed that somehow the sixth espada was able to befriend this shinigami. And Gantenbainne, himself, knew that he owed his life to the same espada. That was why, at this moment, the two very different men sat by the entrance to the cave that currently housed Grimmjow's newborn child. It had been days since they'd begun their vigil, and yet neither of them had left their posts, a sense of duty holding them firmly in place.

Forty-eight hours of silence was finally interrupted by the emergence of Ulquiorra. His appearance had taken on many bat-like qualities, and his reiatsu was now uninhibited by the constraints of his human form. His released state was awe-inspiring, and his demeanor was cold and threatening. Ashido and Gantenbainne waited for him to speak.

"The need for sustenance, requires that I leave for a short period of time," he informed. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he fixed his two sentries with an icy glare. "Under no circumstances should either of you enter this cave."

He spread his black wings to their full span and took off into the night.

The priveron espada found it odd that a man like Ulquiorra would entrust his child to two people who could still be his enemies, but perhaps he'd had no choice. They'd heard the infant cry only once. Perhaps the child was too weak to leave the shelter. Perhaps it wasn't even alive. The shinigami seemed to have similar thoughts on his mind as his eyes were fixed on the dark entrance to the cave.

Time slipped by and the moon returned to the sky once more, bringing slightly more light to their black world. Creatures called to each other from the trees. Every twig that snapped could be heard in the forest's stagnant air.

Another hour or so passed before the former espada heard the soft whimpers from inside the cavern. Pitiful, lonely cries of a baby longing for it's caregiver. It wasn't a sound the Hueco Mundo was used to and even the shinigami seemed to find it strange and foreign.

"Hollow or not, I haven't heard a child's cry for centuries," Ashido commented quietly, "I wasn't aware that hollows mated."

"It is very rare. One must be adjuchas level or higher and even then, mating almost never produces a child."

"I always thought creatures like hollows were the type to eat their own young." Ashido seemed uncaring whether this statement was offensive or not. His eyes caught Gantenbainne's after the small jibe, as if expecting to rile the other.

"We are," the priveron espada answered, unashamed, as he returned the challenging gaze.

Their standoff was put to an end abruptly by the distant roar of a menos grande. The shinigami looked at him questioningly.

"A herd of menos often comes into this area to feed," Gantenbainne explained, "The smell of that child must be drawing them in."

"Are they close?"

"We have maybe five minutes," the former espada answered calmly. Ashido stood up, adjusting the sword at his hip. He took a few bold steps into the cave.

"What are you doing?" Gantenbainne asked in a low voice.

"We'll have to leave," Ashido answered as if it were obvious, "When he said 'under no circumstances' I don't think he meant something like this. He'll forgive me for touching his child in exchange for not letting him get eaten."

"Foolish shinigami. Do not presume to know an arrancar like that. Perhaps Ulquiorra would rather his child die than be touched by someone other than himself."

"That is disgusting, even for a hollow."

"It is not," replied the arrancar harshly, "It is natural. Consider what happens when you touch a bird's nest or disturb a family of mice. The parents abandon their offspring."

"Then I suppose there is no better way to test Ulquiorra's humanity than this," countered the shinigami, refusing to back down. He ducked into the cave and returned a few seconds later with a bundle in his arms. There was no time for further argument. The group of menos could be heard stampeding through the brush and shimigami and arrancar both made quick escapes before they could be detected.

They converged again after they'd traversed a good few miles, putting a decent amount of forest between themselves and the menos. They stopped in a moonlight clearing.

Ashido was looking down at the tiny child in his arms, his curiosity getting the better of him. Gantenbainne couldn't get over the nervous feeling in his gut and he thought perhaps he should take the child from the other man.

And yet...would it really matter? In the arms of his natural enemy, a shinigami, or in the arms of someone who could potentially eat him, the child was in danger either way. Gantenbainne Mosqueda was not looking forward to facing the wrath of the fourth espada...weakened or not.

"I hope you are prepared to accept punishment for your actions. I will not be defending you," the former espada told the shinigami.

"I didn't think he would look so...human. He has no mask," the shinigami said quietly, not even listening. He held up the baby so that the other man could see.

It felt sinful to lay his eyes on that child. He couldn't deny his desire to see the offspring of two powerful espada, but it didn't feel right to look at him without permission. The shinigami had had no place removing him from that cave and Gantenbainne would rather have stayed and fought off the menos until Ulquiorra returned.

Ulquiorra hadn't lied. The child, without a doubt, was Grimmjow's. The resemblance was shocking. This brought the priveron to wondering...where _was_ the child's father?

"Do hollows often abandon their mates?" the shinigami asked, as if reading his mind. Gantenbainne would have liked to give him a clear answer, but the foreigner was treading in waters not so much deep as unexplored.

"Again, you presume to much. One cannot be 'abandoned' if there was no attachment in the first place. Judging by their past relationship, its possible that they simply couldn't stand each other. Either that, or Ulquiorra was forced into hiding to protect himself."

"If that were the case, then I would not be worthy of espada rank, would I?" came the cold, uninvited response. Both men turned to look upon the foreboding figure of the fourth espada. Gantenbainne stood aside, letting Ulquiorra glide smoothly toward the fool of a shinigami who held his child.

Ashido, unapologetic and fearless, held out the baby for him to take. The priveron had to give him credit for being so resolute and unashamed of his deed. Although he and Ulquiorra might not see it as so, the shinigami was certain he'd acted for the best.

Once the child was returned to the arms of his parent, Ulquiorra tail whipped out and struck the shinigami hard. Ashido allowed himself to fall to the ground and remained still while Ulquiorra thrashed him. Blood dripped from his face and he looked up at the cuatro with hard eyes.

"I suppose you think yourself heroic," Ulquiorra said quietly. He placed a clawed foot on Ashido's chest and ground him into the dirt below. "Do you get a shallow sort of satisfaction from your so called 'selfless deeds'? I did not ask for your help, Shinigami. Where do you get the audacity to involve yourself in my quarrel with the fifth espada, and what gave you the idea that you could simply put your fingers all over my pup?"

"I didn't do it for you," Ashido reminded him. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

Ulquiorra growled, wrapping his tail around the shinigami's neck.

"I don't understand you," Ulquiorra told the shinigami, "Grimmjow is the same as me. An arrancar. A wretched espada. What quality of his could possibly be so redeeming that you would stick your neck out for his mate and heir?"

"Before I met the sexta espada, I didn't think hollows were capable of loving one another," was Ashido's ready response, "Perhaps he didn't even realize it himself, but the way he spoke of you...was all the evidence I needed."

Gantenbainne noticed the slightest expression of surprise grace the fourth espada's features. He recovered within seconds.

"And here I thought the only way a man like Grimmjow could gather a disciple like you would be through traitorous promises. Rejoice, Shinigami. Grimmjow Jeagerjacks is one of you now. He has betrayed all of his race. He has betrayed Aizen, the man who gave him such power, to whom he owes allegiance more than anyone else. He has betrayed me..." he drew the tiny child closer to his breast, eyes gazing down at him sadly, "...betrayed us..."

Slowly, Ulquiorra's tail released its strangling grip upon the shinigami's neck as he became more concerned with the child. He turned his back to both the arrancar and the shinigami in an attempt to hide his affectionate gestures. The baby in his arms mewed weakly.

"I...will go now, as it is obvious we each see Grimmjow as a very different man,"Ulquiorra said quietly. He readied himself for flight and with a few flaps of his sleek, black wings he was gone.

For a moment, Gantenbainne stared after him. Then realizing he had no further reason to remain in the company of this shinigami, prepared to take his leave as well. The shinigami's voice stopped him as he turned away.

"If what he said was true, then Aizen's reign will soon come to an end. We will meet again. When we do, it will be to destroy Las Noches."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow sat lazily by the small koi pond, his eyes following the colorful fish as they swam around each other in endless circles. He thought vaguely that it might be fun to skewer some of them on his sword and reached for Pantera. He sighed upon remembering that his zanpakuto had long since been confiscated and he fell back into the soft grass.

From upside-down, he saw a figure approaching. A figure with orange hair and a giant sword upon his back.

"They let you out of the cage today, huh?"

"Why shouldn't they? I've been a good pet, lickin' their fucking boots all day long," Grimmjow replied darkly, "Besides, they know I ain't got nowhere to go after running my mouth so much."

For a moment, there was only awkward silence.

"You've done the right thing, Grimmjow," said Kurosaki.

"Don't shove your shinigami values down my throat! I've shamed the entire Hueco Mundo!" returned Grimmjow hotly.

"You're saving the entire Hueco Mundo."

"Bullshit," spat Grimmjow, "As much as I hate to admit it, Aizen was probably the best thing to ever happen to us hollows. Now he's about to die at the hands of those he's betrayed. It's ironic that I will meet the same fate as him when I return to the Hueco Mundo. I suppose it's only justice for traitors like us."

"Then wallow in your misery, Grimmjow," said Kurosaki, wasting no sympathy, "All I know is that you are a good man helping to overthrow a tyrant. That is how I see it."

"Then I'd better fix my reputation right away. I can't have shinigamis thinking I'm a 'good man'," the sixth espada answered. Ichigo ignored him, remaining serious.

"Once Aizen is disposed, the Gotei thirteen were hoping that you would be willing to take his place. They seem to think you are best suited to their interests. Will you take the throne and become the new king of the Hueco Mundo?"

Grimmjow smiled in a most pleased fashion. They were right, of course. Grimmjow was the panther king. He'd always known himself to make a good leader. Even if it meant becoming a puppet for the shinigami, what hollow could refuse the promise of more power? By refusing the throne, he would only be refusing everything he truly wanted. He would be denying everything that an arrancar stood for.

"No," he said simply, "I've got a better idea."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

**The white towers rose up into the eternal night, splitting the black skies with their harsh edges. It was a different castle now...serving a different master. Ulquiorra looked upon his former home with a rising excitement. He'd never expected to breach these walls himself.**

"**Will no one come out to greet us?" Ashido asked, his eyes scanning the short area of desert that stood between the three of them and the castle walls. There was no one in sight. **

"**Perhaps we are walking into a trap," suggested the priveron espada. **

"**No," said Ulquiorra narrowing his eyes, "The castle is empty."**

**He'd wondered why they'd met no resistance thus far. No guardians hidden in the sand. No gatekeepers or lesser hollows that formed the bulk of the fortress's defenses. No one had been alerted to their presence because there was simply no one here.**

**Had Las Noches been like this since Aizen's death? No more order. No more structure. Had the Hueco Mundo, once again, been reduced to a lawless wasteland?**

**And then another thought occurred to him...a thought he wouldn't have dared to think while Aizen was still the ruler of the realm, but a thought he'd come to dwell on more and more now that he'd become accustomed to living the way nature intended.**

**Was it possible that this was...for the best?**

**He ascended the stone steps alone. The front doors yielded to him, swinging open with ease. **

**He had arrived. Grimmjow was still waiting for him...as was their precious child.**

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o..

A/N: I don't even like kids, but this fictional baby is just too cute sometimes.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: A few minutes after I post this, the first chapter will have been edited to finally correct all of my mistakes. I've decided to **bold** both this chapter and the first chapter to avoid confusion about when they take place.

Now then, please enjoy the final chapter.

**Chapter 23**

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**

**The silent, eerie halls of Las Noches were silent and eerie for entirely new reasons, Ulquiorra thought as he prowled the grandiose corridor. **

**Before him, the walls were cracked and charred. Stone crumbled and tiles had been ripped from the floor. Entire wings had been disintegrated, rooms reduced to pits of dust. Looking up, the ceiling had caved in spots, leaving the inside of the once impregnable castle open to the Hueco Mundo's harsh elements. **

**The castle hadn't simply fallen to disrepair in these last fifteen or so moon cycles. No, a large battle had taken place here; fighting had swept these halls.**

**And what of the inhabitants? Had each and every arrancar that once dwelled in this castle met his fate at the hands of the shinigami? A bloodbath indeed and yet Ulquiorra could not quite bring himself to feel for his fellow espada. If they could not defend their castle from the enemy, then perhaps they deserved death.**

**The doors to Aizen's throne room seemed relatively untouched. It was common to feel apprehension while standing outside these doors, but now that apprehension was not reserved for the fearsome man that once sat on the throne, it was for the unknown...for the possibilities of what _could_ lie waiting inside.**

**He entered.**

"**Welcome, Ulquiorra."**

**Green eyes widened. For a moment, the fourth espada could have sworn it was Aizen's voice. It wasn't. And it wasn't Grimmjow's either. **

"**Kurosaki...Ichigo," said Ulquiorra. The boy...the shinigami was addressing him from Aizen's throne. He looked much the same, but with orange hair slightly longer and brown eyes infinitely more mature. There was no mistake. This was the shinigami that Aizen had fallen to. **

**And on his lap he held a sleeping child, stroking his blue hair fondly.**

**Ulquiorra's blood boiled in his veins at the sight. Blinded by rage, Murcielago was suddenly in his hand, ready to sever the shinigami's head from his neck.**

**He was interrupted when another stood in his path, stopping Murcielago with his bare hand. **

"**Ah, ah, ah," said Grimmjow with a shake of his head, "You're going to play with me first."**

**Ulquiorra growled in frustration. He wanted to scream. Both of them were right there. He could finish Kurosaki here and now, avenging Aizen. Then he would take his child and they would go far away from this hateful place. **

**But Grimmjow...**

"**Is this payback Kurosaki?" asked Ulquiorra, nearly beside himself with fury, "I took your mate and now you take my son?" Ichigo simply stared at him, his mouth set in a thin line. Ulquiorra then rounded on Grimmjow. **

"**Is this the master you've chosen to follow, Grimmjow? After all those times you swore never to bow to a shinigami?"**

"**You've got it wrong, Ulquiorra. I follow no master. The Hueco Mundo has no more king...has no more espada," Grimmjow replied, "It is the way it should be."**

"**It will not last," said Ulquiorra, "Someone else will come to power if it is not us."**

"**That may be so," it was Kurosaki who was speaking. He stood up from the throne. The baby in his arms had been roused from his sleep by his parent's heated voices. He blinked drowsily as Kurosaki set him back down on the stone chair. "But whoever it will be, let it be the hollow who wins it fair and square. You of all people would understand the importance of this, Ulquiorra."**

**Ulquiorra started for the shinigami again, but Grimmjow would not budge in his stance.**

"**Do what you want with this castle. It's not my concern anymore," Kurosaki finished. He was walking away.**

"**Turn and face me, Kurosaki!" Ulquiorra shouted after him. With anger so hot it was burning him, he longed to stab this shinigami through the heart. Aizen had meant the world to him, and he wasn't about to let his lord's murderer walk free from Las Noches. **

"**He won't fight you," Grimmjow told Ulquiorra, still refusing to step from his path. **

"**Then he is a coward!" snarled the smaller espada.**

"**No," said Grimmjow, "If he defeated Aizen, then he could easily defeat you as well."**

"**Then why!" demanded Ulquiorra, "I deserve the chance to avenge him."**

"**Because of _him,_" Grimmjow answered, his eyes glancing over to the infant sitting on the throne. Ulquiorra followed his gaze, looking back at his child. The baby had shaken off his sleepiness and was now whining impatiently for Ulquiorra to come hold him, stretching out his little hands.**

**He melted slightly at the display, momentarily forgetting his rage until Grimmjow forced him back to reality.**

"**Kurosaki doesn't want to deprive our son of his _mother,_" the sixth espada continued, "But..." here he stepped closer to Ulquiorra, lips brushing his ear, "Unless you agree to become mine again, and only mine, I can't say that I feel the same." Grimmjow's tongue slid up his cheek.**

**Ulquiorra shied away, dispelling the heat rising in his body. Kurosaki could wait. What was most important right now was for Ulquiorra to do what he came here to do. **

"**No swords," said Grimmjow, unfastening Pantera from his waist, "No _ressureccion_. Just you and me...as we are now," he held out his hand for Murcielago**

**Ulquiorra considered for a moment, his eyes narrowed. Then, slowly, he placed Murcielago back in its sheathe and handed the katana to Grimmjow. The sixth espada turned and rested the two zanpakuto against the throne.**

"**Watch these for a sec, little man," he told the intrigued child with an affectionate pet to his soft hair. Grimmjow returned to Ulquiorra, grinning hungrily, excitement dancing in his cerulean eyes. **

"**Here are the stakes," he explained, "You win: you leave here with the baby and we never see each other again. I win:" his tongue wet his lips, "you're mine and I fuck you right here on this very floor. Deal?"**

"**Deal," Ulquiorra agreed without hesitation. He would not lose to Grimmjow no matter what. **

**Ulquiorra began by delivering a swift jab to Grimmjow's upper chest. The other man managed to absorb most of the attack. He snarled angrily, grabbing for Ulquiorra. The fourth espada responded by easily snapping the wrist of the hand that held him. Grimmjow retreated for a second, mending the damage, and then came at him with renewed vigor.**

**They danced. Barely visible to the naked eye at the speeds they were moving, they took turns on the offensive, looking to maim, looking to kill. It wasn't graceful or refined, it was desperate. **

**Ulquiorra came to realize that he had better keep his distance. With his vast amounts of spiritual power sealed away, he was at a severe disadvantage. Grimmjow was far stronger of body, but Ulquiorra knew he had the man beat when it came to technical skill and tactical thinking. It had been the only reason he had accepted the terms of the duel in the first place. **

**The fight took turn a turn for the worse when Grimmjow finally became fed up with Ulquiorra dodging him. He kicked dust up into Ulquiorra's face and, in the moment he was blinded, barreled him into the ground. **

**In this position, Ulquiorra could feel the other man's hardness through his pants. The sixth espada pinned him and held him, losing interest in the battle.**

**It used to be so easy to shove Grimmjow off, to brush him aside, to be completely superior to him. Now- and he had no idea whether Grimmjow had gained the strength or he has lost it- he was finding it hard to escape the other man's tight grip. **

**They wrestled, abandoning their spiritual powers to settle for a mere physical tryst, clawing and scratching, pushing and biting. Grimmjow was grinding his clothed erection against him, unashamed of his desire, while Ulquiorra was responding reluctantly, frustration and fear welling in his chest. **

"**Unhand me!" he growled, pushing uselessly against the larger espada. "Where is your so-called honor, Grimmjow? Duel me properly!"**

"**Just give it up." Grimmjow answered, "You want me as well, I can feel it." He managed to wedge himself between the fourth espada's legs. Ulquiorra made a sound of indignation. Grimmjow bit his neck, hard. Ulquiorra gasped and struggled anew.**

**He'd never felt such a strong emotion before. This hate that consumed him. Pure, passionate hatred for this man that was pressing against him. He never realized he could _feel_ like this. **

**He looked hopelessly at his infant son who was tugging experimentally on Murcielago. If he were to give into Grimmjow, what would happen to their child? Grimmjow would protect him, right? He cared for the baby in his own way...right?**

**Ulquiorra knew what was going to happen before it did. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't quite noticed that Sol was about to pull Murcielago from its sheath. **

**The room erupted in light...light so intense that it left both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra disoriented.**

"**What the-" began Grimmjow. Then he realized what had happened. "Dear...God..."**

**The reiatsu alone was overwhelming. Ulquiorra managed to adjust his vision in time to see his son...his hair had turned dark as midnight, his eyes green and stained with tear-tracks...wings upon his back...**

**The little child was frightened. He didn't know what had happened and why his parents were suddenly fearful of him. He began to cry. His cries shook the very foundation of Las Noches and the ceilings and walls began to crumble. Shock waves emanated from the tiny baby, wrecking havock upon the castle's structure and causing Ulquiorra to curl in on himself, holding his hands over his ears. **

**Around them, the entire place was collapsing. Something had to be done, but he found himself paralyzed, watching the utter destruction with wide, disbelieving eyes. **

**And then...nothing.**

**The fourth espada didn't know how much time had passed...minutes? Hours? But when he finally came to, it was dark. He shifted the ruble off of himself, standing up to nothing but ruins and an empty, black sky. **

**Las Noches was no more, lost to the expanse of desert upon which it was built. **

**He tore through the broken palace, hauling stone and rocks, sand and dirt...desperately searching...**

**He found Grimmjow, nearly buried, his still body causing deep worry. Dragging him from what would have been his tomb, Ulquiorra laid him gently upon the soft sand.**

**Though unconscious, he was clutching their son to his chest. Immediately, Ulquiorra tore the baby from his grip...**

**...Sol wasn't breathing. He looked as though he had been severely injured. Red dripped onto Ulquiorra's hands as he held the pitiful, limp form. Ulquiorra began to tremble. **

_**No...he's not...**_

**Grimmjow stirred, groaning loudly. He opened his eyes and noticed Ulquiorra...**

**...holding their nearly lifeless child. **

**Painfully, Grimmjow raised himself into a sitting position. He wasn't able to do much more than that before Ulquiorra was upon him, attacking him viciously.**

"**YOU'VE...KILLED HIM!" Ulquiorra struggled to articulate through his rage, "I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU! NEVER!" Grimmjow laid there, limp, as he allowed Ulquiorra to punch him over and over. **

"**Wait..." he whispered, already beyond hope that Ulquiorra would hear him. Ulquiorra didn't stop after blood stained his fists...after he'd gone mad with despair.**

"**Look," said Grimmjow hoarsely.**

**Ulquiorra managed to look down at his child. His tiny boy who'd had barely a chance at life...who'd been destined for great things...whose..**

**...wounds had healed themselves. The blood flow had stopped, the gashes had closed. Ulquiorra sat there, utterly stupefied, watching the power of his own regenerative abilities his son had inherited.**

**During the next few minutes, the child's mop of dark hair faded back to its natural blue. His markings and wings disappeared, and his reiatsu waned until he was once again just a helpless baby. He opened his eyes slowly and, upon recognizing who was holding him, cried out joyfully. Perhaps he didn't realize how close he'd come to death, perhaps he had already forgotten, but Ulquiorra could only care that he was still alive.**

**He sank back into the sand, holding the little hollow tightly. Relief washed over him...relief so strong it made him weak. He was at a loss for words.**

**Grimmjow got to his feet, spitting blood and then wiping his mouth roughly.**

"**Didn't I tell you that no kid of mine would die so easily?" **

**Ulquiorra's panting was his only response. He had lost it completely. Why did he care so much for this child? The prospect of this helpless little infant's death had nearly driven him insane. And had Grimmjow died as well...what would he have done? It suddenly seemed ridiculous that he and Grimmjow had even been trying to hurt each other in the first place.**

**Grimmjow had has back to them, his eyes surveying the flattened fortress, looking upon the place where he had lived his entire arrancar life. He inhaled the dusty air. It was time for them to say good-bye to an era...and it felt glorious. **

**Ulquiorra rose, child in hand, and walked on unsteady legs to the other man. He buried his face into Grimmjow's chest, sobbing quietly. At first, Grimmjow did nothing, more startled than anything else. Then, carefully, he lifted his arms and placed them around Ulquiorra.**

**Together they had done so much. They'd dismantled an army, put the reign of a despot to an end, overthrown a government, and laid waste to the Hueco Mundo's most magnificent establishment. And they hadn't meant to do any of it. **

**Yet somehow it was perfect...just like this. **

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**

**They were back in the forest. Back in the cliffs. Back in the cave that Ulquiorra had made his home.**

**Together, they laid their sleeping child onto the soft bed of furs and watched as he snuggled in comfortably, so innocent and carefree. Ulquiorra looked to Grimmjow and saw his own feelings reflected in his mate's eyes. **

**Their embrace was sudden and Ulquiorra allowed Grimmjow to kiss him harshly. However, when hands were sliding down his thighs and Grimmjow had thrown him up against the wall, Ulquiorra turned away.**

"**Hmm..." Grimmjow breathed into Ulquiorra's neck, "With my kid inside you, you could never refuse me. I wouldn't mind giving you another."**

"**No," Ulquiorra replied, but it was weak. Grimmjow was already kissing him again. For some reason, the future was not all that frightening anymore. They had shown the world what they were capable of, and whatever may come their way, be it new enemies or a new litter, they could deal with it.**

**After that, he and Grimmjow made love like never before, trapping themselves in a coma of pleasure and raw emotion. Never before had Ulquiorra felt so alive. He met Grimmjow's thrusting with equal zeal, arching his body and granting Grimmjow access to the deepest, most forbidden parts of himself. They kissed with abandon, as if nothing else in the world mattered. **

**Grimmjow's body drove him beyond insanity as he sat there upon a razor's edge, ready to fall into the abyss of ultimate release. He felt like crying out; crying out to the prejudiced god that had decided to cast the Hueco Mundo into everlasting night. There was heat so strong that Ulquiorra felt he might just die. Climax was ever so sweet, bliss overriding his senses as his body clenched painfully...feeling Grimmjow empty himself as far inside as he could. Against the wall, with Grimmjow's cock still deeply penetrating him, the man suddenly stopped. **

"**Can I make love to you?" Grimmjow asked, redundantly. Ulquiorra calmed his breathing enough to answer.**

"**It is rather late to be asking that now," he responded, "You've bested me in battle. I am yours."**

"**True, I've won your body, but I want your heart as well."**

"**My...heart?" There was that word again. "Fool," whispered Ulquiorra, "You conquered that long ago." **

**.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.**

A/N: There will most likely be an epilogue because I want to show more of Grimmjow and Ulquiorra as parents. Those types of scenes wouldn't have fit well into this chapter due to its seriousness.

If you have a really cute idea of something you want to see happen, tell me about it and if it interests me enough perhaps I'll include it (and credit you of course).

Thank you for your support everyone!

~ showmaster64x


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: I considered starting a separate story for this but then i realized that i have no idea how many of these little drabbles i will be making. So until i get enough material, ill just be tacking these little oneshots onto the end of _Conquest_

Credit for this chapter's idea goes to unholynight

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

He scrabbled up the rocks clumsily. The night's heat was wearing on him and he longed to return home and take a long nap in his nice...

The sound of his son's cries met his ears.

...quiet cave.

Ulquiorra was sitting outside with his zanpakuto across his lap. He was staring ahead blankly, lost in thought as the child cried in the background.

"Uh..." began Grimmjow, unsure if Ulquiorra even noticed he was here, "Did something happen?"

Ulquiorra blinked, as if remembering where he was, and turned to Grimmjow slowly.

"No."

"Then why is he crying?"

"I...don't know."

"Well don't you think you should get in there and figure it out?" Grimmjow asked. Seriously, what was his deal? He was just sitting there, completely calm, as if his damn kid wasn't screaming bloody murder for the entire Hueco Mundo to hear.

"Grimmjow...I don't care."

Ulquiorra tightened his grip on Murcielago after a particularly loud screech. Grimmjow noticed the action and suddenly regarded his mate cautiously. Ulquiorra stood up.

"I'm through with this. It is your problem now," he said shortly. He placed the sword in his belt and escaped without another word, leaving Grimmjow standing there, stupefied.

Surely he hadn't gone...forever...right?

Grimmjow entered the cave and attempted to soothe the crying baby. It wasn't really something he was good at, even after the few weeks he'd spent here with Ulquiorra.

Well, he wasn't hungry. He wasn't tired. He didn't smell. Grimmjow was beginning to see why Ulquiorra had left. A few hours of this would drive anyone insane. He needed to stop this somehow, before he had to rip his own ears off. It was against the laws of nature for something so small to make so much noise.

"Can't you just...SHUT UP?"

He put his hand over the child's impossibly loud mouth, hoping to at least muffle the sound. It was a good thing Ulquiorra wasn't here to watch this. He wouldn't have been too happy to see Grimmjow suffocating their child.

Miraculously, the upset baby ceased his crying. He giggled happily and began to gnaw on Grimmjow's fingers with his sharp teeth.

"That fucking hurts!" Grimmjow pulled his hand away, looking with disgust at the drool on his fingers. The crying resumed and the sound grated on Grimmjow's ears, making him want to cry as well out of pure frustration. He put his fingers back in the child's mouth.

Content again, Sol chewed them excitedly, making Grimmjow wince. Little hands clawed at him, hoping to gain better leverage over his hand. Grimmjow's eyes softened.

"This whole time you only wanted something to bite? Why didn't you say so?"

Both of them were waiting outside when Ulquiorra returned a few hours later. Sol was dozing in Grimmjow's arms, having chewed himself to sleep. Ulquiorra seemed pleased with the silence.

"You came back." Grimmjow commented.

"Why wouldn't I come back?" asked Ulquiorra, looking confused. He tried to take the sleeping baby from Grimmjow, but the other man shoved him away.

"Hey, get your own. It took forever for him to finally shut up."

"Grimmjow..." began Ulquiorra in a low voice, "Give him to me."

"Fuck off. It's still my turn."

"You don't know what your doing. You don't know how to take care of him," Ulquiorra said, trying a different angle.

"I did a hellova lot better job than you did today, that's for sure. And I might not know shit about kids, but you don't either," Grimmjow replied. He could see Ulquiorra getting angry. Ulquiorra didn't like Grimmjow overstepping his authority, and he really didn't like not getting his way.

"Either you hand him over, or I will make you hand him over, Sexta."

"Alright, make me," said Grimmjow, smirking. He held the child close, aware that Ulquiorra wouldn't do anything that might harm the boy. He eyed his mate mischievously, challenging him.

With eyes still filled with malice, Ulquiorra walked up to him. Grimmjow braced himself, wondering if he had miscalculated and if Ulquiorra would actually attempt to punch him, or perhaps injure him with Murcielago.

Grimmjow's eyes widened when Ulquiorra's lips were suddenly on his his neck, dragging over his skin gently. They were soft and wet, and his hot breath was enough to elicit a low growl from Grimmjow's throat.

"You dirty sonofabitch," Grimmjow muttered. He tilted his head back when Ulquiorra's fingers slid into his hair. Teeth nibbled experimentally at his heated skin and Grimmjow purred appreciatively. He'd never seen Ulquiorra so...frisky. He was reminded that the fourth espada was very much his, and he could do what he wanted to that body.

And then, all the sudden, the touches were gone. Ulquiorra wasn't there anymore...and neither was Sol. Grimmjow cursed himself for allowing to be so easily distracted.

"Pathetic, Grimmjow," said Ulquiorra. He turned away and snuggled the child triumphantly.

Grimmjow sighed dejectedly, reaching up to rub at the goose bumps still on his neck. He'd get his revenge...later.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N:If you have suggested a drabble idea already then there is a good chance I will still write about it. If you haven't, you still can, but keep in mind that I would like to write these in chronological order.

ja na


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Credit for this chapter's idea goes to Utena-Puchiko-nyu and Nelly-Sempai

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Tada!" said Grimmjow upon arriving at the entrance to his home. He threw the limp body of his prey onto the ground before Ulquiorra. The smaller espada did not look impressed.

"This is it?" he asked, "You were gone for days and all you have to show for it is this piece of garbage? I should have gone myself."

"You're welcome," spat Grimmjow, "I don't think you realize, Ulquiorra, that there's nothing left around here for us to eat. Two arrancar as powerful as we are shouldn't be living in such close proximity. We've destroyed the food chain in this entire area. I had to leave our territory just to find this...garbage."

"Then we should split up," Ulquiorra said simply, "As much as I like you, Grimmjow, I like being an arrancar even more. I will not allow myself to regress back into a vasto lorde." Grimmjow felt his jaw tighten in anger after hearing his mate's words.

"Fine, but I get the kid."

"No."

"Too bad. I'm taking him." He pushed past Ulquiorra into the cave, but the other man used sonido to block his path.

"I'm afraid not, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra hissed.

"Grim!"

Both arrancar turned, surprised, to the tiny voice that had spoken. With both of his parents staring at him in disbelief, Sol was ecstatic. He clapped his hands excitedly. "Grim! Grim!" he repeated.

"Really?" began the sixth espada turning to Ulquiorra, "'Grim'? Not 'daddy' or something like that? What have you been teaching him?"

"I didn't teach him that," replied Ulquiorra, still stunned over hearing his son speak, "But what's wrong with 'Grimmjow'? That is your name. I deserve the title of 'daddy' far more than you."

"Hell the fuck no!" Grimmjow said, "I'm 'daddy'. You're 'mommy'."

"No," declined Ulquiorra, turning his back on Grimmjow. He knelt down in front of the child, looking at him seriously. To Grimmjow, the sight was almost comical.

"Now say _my_ name," he demanded of the boy. Grimmjow burst out laughing. He'd never seen Ulquiorra address the child directly before, and now he could see the reason. The poor baby looked positively frightened.

"That's fucking hilarious!" wheezed Grimmjow, "He's gonna pee himself he's so scared. He thinks you're scolding him. You've gotta use a different voice."

"A different voice?" asked Ulquiorra, confused, "How will that make a difference?" Grimmjow knelt down next to him.

"Is Mommy scaring you?" Grimmjow said to the child in a sickly sweet voice. Sol's ears perked up immediately. "Do you like me better?" He held out his arms and beckoned the child to him.

"You sound ridiculous," commented Ulquiorra, "And he will never chose you over me." He turned back to the child and held out his hands as well.

Sol's eyes went from one parent to the other, looking uncomfortable under the pressure. He stood up on wobbly legs. Whimpering softly, he lowered his ears and curled his tail between his legs before taking a few unbalanced steps...

...and falling into Ulquiorra's arms.

"Ah, fuck you, Ulquiorra!" Grimmjow swore, letting his hands drop, "The kid is so damn smart, he knows you'll punish him if he doesn't pick you."

"I believe you are only jealous," breathed Ulquiorra as he buried his face in the baby's soft hair.

"Ch..." Grimmjow made to stand up, but Ulquiorra caught his wrist.

"Let's move from this cave," he said, "We'll find a new place to live where food isn't scarce. And when we have to, we'll move from there also."

Grimmjow stared at him for a moment. It was stupid to get so pissed off over something so little, but he was sick of feeling unappreciated around here.

"Grim..." Sol was looking at him with pleading eyes. Sometimes he really just wanted to hurt the kid for being so damn cute. No one should be able to affect him like that.

Ulquiorra, reluctantly, and with much difficulty, held out the child for Grimmjow. For someone as horrible as Ulquiorra at sharing, it was a big deal.

"Fine," Grimmjow sighed. Instead of taking the offered baby, Grimmjow slid his arms around Ulquiorra and drew in both of them.

While pressed awkwardly between the two adults, Sol watched them as they did the thing where they put their mouths together. He could copy that. He wanted attention too. Even though the two of them hadn't finished, he decided to take his turn, stretching up and placing a few licks on his his father's lips.

"Oi!" said Grimmjow, stepping away and wiping his mouth, "I can only deal with one at a time!" he glared at Ulquiorra, whose face had flushed ever so slightly.

"I certainly didn't teach him _that._"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: I really couldn't stop laughing while writing this chapter. I always imagined Ulquiorra would have trouble talking to a little kid. Hell, _I_ would probably die of fright if Ulquiorra ever talked to me.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Lately it seems that every mpreg that I come across is so disgustingly sweet that it makes me want to barf. I absolutely hate it when the daddy-to-be becomes the mommy-to-be's slave. The whole reason I read mpreg is to avoid the helpless/nagging/controlling/ woman character. In my opinion, being pregnant is not an excuse to act like a total bitch, and getting someone pregnant doesn't mean you are obligated to become a complete tool. I wrote this chapter in response.

This chapter is NOT happy. It is probably one of the most despicable things I've ever written. Feel free not to read it. Warnings for blood and death and all the good stuff my sick mind loves to come up with.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"_Come," Ulquiorra's voice boomed loud and clear in the open air, "Fight me if that is indeed your intent." The dry wind howled inside the canyon, the sheer cliffs rising on either side to funnel it. Ulquiorra looked down and noticed the gash on his thigh. He healed it quickly, berating himself for being so careless. He wouldn't be caught unawares again._

"_You've encroached upon my lands for the last time. I am curious to know what has caused a group of low-lives like yourselves to so boldly wander into an arrancar's territory."_

_From nearly every direction, bouncing off the rock walls came laughter like that of hyenas._

"_Times are changing," came a single voice to the right of him. Ulquiorra turned his head, hoping to glimpse the speaker._

"_Arrancars are not so frightening. They have weaknesses like humans-," Another voice from the left continued. _

"_Humans! Dirty humans! Ahahaha!" a third voice rang. _

"_We wouldn't trespass into a normal arracar's territory, but a mated arrancar is a different story."_

"_And you smell like a mated arrancar. An arrancar bearing pups is always easy prey."_

"_There are no pups here." Ulquiorra answered loudly, thinking of his child far away at the other end of their territory with Grimmjow. "And you would find my sword just as sharp." The wild yipping laughter only grew in intensity. _

"_No mate and with a pup yet born-"_

"_He's asking to be eaten!"_

"_As to the sharpness of your sword. We will test that for ourselves."_

_At once they emerged from the dark crevices...from every direction, pouncing like a group of rabid dogs._

"Get the FUCK off." When Ulquiorra opened his eyes he was staring into Grimmjow's angry blue ones. He didn't immediately see the problem and took a moment to get his bearings after such a vivid nightmare. Then he looked down and noticed his nails were embedded nearly a full inch into the bare flesh of Grimmjow's chest. "Don't just fuckin' sit there!"

Ulquiorra ripped them out with little sympathy, ignoring Grimmjow's hiss of pain.

When he was free, Grimmjow shoved him away and stood up. "This is getting ridiculous," he grumbled furiously, going over to where Sol was sleeping.

"Trade ya!" he said to his half awake kid, dropping him onto the sleeping area next to Ulquiorra and taking the too small bedding for himself.

"Night," Grimmjow growled.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Grim!" the miniature version of himself looked more than overjoyed to see him. He stumbled up to him and held his father's leg in a tight hug.

"Where is your mother?" Grimmjow asked. Sol's smile faded a bit. He shuffled his feet in the sand and pointed toward the cave.

"He yelled at me," Sol pouted, his ears and tail dropping. Grimmjow ruffled his hair. Ulquiorra never raised his voice with his son. He always left that particular job to Grimmjow.

"Stay here," Grimmjow told him, "I'll find out what's wrong. If he's being a dick, then we'll go somewhere for a while."

"Ok!" Sol replied happily.

The sixth espada walked into the cave, unsure of what he would meet inside. His nose met the smell of sick. Further in, he found Ulquiorra in the corner, his knees pulled up to his chest and his head between them in a most pitiful position.

"I told you to stay outside," Ulquiorra groaned to Grimmjow without looking up.

"You haven't told me anything," Grimmjow replied. The smaller man lifted his head and focused his green eyes on his mate.

"You're early," was his only response.

"'hell's the matter with you?" Grimmjow asked, approaching Ulquiorra. The fourth espada slapped away his hand. "Well? Gonna tell me?"

"Nothing."

"You look awful."

"Then let me rest," Ulquiorra retorted, "Get out."

Grimmjow didn't obey. He crouched down in front of the smaller arrancar, eying him carefully. Ulquiorra wouldn't meet his gaze, finding the ground much more interesting. What could possibly be troubling him so much?

"Are you pregnant or something?"

Ulquiorra snorted as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world. Then he put a hand over his mouth, looking like he was going to be sick again.

"Of course not. We haven't lain together in ages. Even if we had, it's not the proper season."

"Whatever," said Grimmjow, standing up. He also had thought it near impossible since they didn't rut nearly as often as they used to. If Ulquiorra had already dismissed the idea, then Grimmjow wasn't going to push it. Ulquiorra had told him many times that he did not want any more cubs. "Clean up this fucking mess. Me and the kid are going out for a while."

"I didn't mean to get angry with him," Ulquiorra said quietly, and Grimmjow was unsure if he was talking to himself or not, "I just didn't want him to see me like this." Grimmjow sighed.

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll still worship you same as always."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Here," Grimmjow said, as he and Ulquiorra knelt in the underbrush, staring through the thick branches at the Vasto Lorde that was about to become their meal.

"I knew he'd be here."

Without warning, Ulquiorra jumped from his hiding place. Giving away their position like a complete idiot. Grimmjow gave chase, fuming silently.

Ulquiorra had the prey captured and incapacitated in a matter of minutes. However, when Grimmjow drew near, his mate stopped him with a ferocious growl.

"I found him," Grimmjow reminded him.

"And I killed him," Ulquiorra replied, "Therefore, he is mine." Grimmjow scowled furiously, throwing Pantera into the ground, where it embedded itself halfway to the hilt.

"I'm going to give this one to you," Grimmjow told the smaller arrancar shoving an angry finger in his face, "But only because you're pregnant."

"Excuse me?"

"You're pregnant. I know it," Grimmjow responded. The fourth espada narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"You know nothing. We've had this conversation. It is impossible."

"It's not impossible, inconvenient maybe, but keep telling yourself whatever you want."

Ulquiorra's lips were set in a tight line. He lifted the hollow he'd just killed and thrust it into Grimmjow's hands.

"Take it," he said, "You'll see, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow took the corpse from him but all at once decided he didn't want it if he hadn't killed it himself. He let it drop back on the ground.

"Yeah, I'll see alright."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

But he didn't...really. The time passed and nothing happened. It remained the three of them: him, Ulquiorra, and Sol, with no evidence suggesting that there would be a fourth.

It rained. Rained like it never had before, wetting the ground enough to make it squelch beneath one's feet when walking. They had been away from home when the drizzle began and had been forced to take shelter underneath some spindly trees until it let up.

Sol was not about to stay out of it. They'd gone through a several year drought. Never in his life had the small hollow seen rain.

"Look! There's water in the sky!" the boy shouted as if it were some sort of miracle. He poked his head out from under the tree, lost his balance and rolled into a patch of mud. He held up his dirty hand to his parents. "Ahh! Look!"

Ulquiorra merely stared at his filthy child, looking rather tired. Sol laughed and flung the handful of mud. Grimmjow had been busy watching Ulquiorra when the wet earth splattered onto his face.

"Oops," said the kid, going quiet after he realized what he had done. Grimmjow wiped the mud from his face and got up. The child cowered silently as he sat there and waited for his punishment.

"Grimmjow, what are you doing?" came Ulquiorra's monotone voice. The sixth espada ignored him, scooping up some of the mud in his own hands and walking over to the boy. He threw it into the kid's face.

"Oops," he said, his lips curling into a playful smile. Sol giggled, putting his messy fingers all over Grimmjow's white clothes. Grimmjow took another handful of mud and turned toward his mate.

"Grimmjow..." Ulquiorra warned. Grimmjow stalked toward him, grinning mischievously, "Stop this at once. If you put your disgusting hands on me-" He was forced to stop talking when he received a face full of mud.

"That's right! Come and get me," Grimmjow sneered. For a moment, Ulquiorra sat there, letting the mud crust on his face, and looking as though he might draw his sword and behead Grimmjow right there. Then he stood and walked around to the other side of the tree's trunk. He sat down once more with his back to them both.

"Hmph," Grimmjow snorted, going back to his son. The young child looked toward his mother, disappointed.

"Grim?" he asked in his tiny voice.

"Yeah?"

"How come he never wants to play with us?"

"He's just being an asshole right now," Grimmjow answered, "He'll come around."

"Oh. Okay."

Eventually, the rain let up. The moon came out again and the world went still and quiet once more. Sol had long since exhausted himself and fallen asleep, mud caked all over his body.

"We should probably head out, don't you think?" Grimmjow said to his mate, breaking the silence at last. He wasn't given a response. He peaked around to the other side of the tree and was slightly surprised to see Ulquiorra with his eyes closed, breathing softly. The man was sleeping.

And Grimmjow knew now might be his only chance to confirm his suspicions. He knelt in front of Ulquiorra, who had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and gently slid his fingers beneath Ulquiorra's shirt. He caressed the bare skin he found there, searching...prodding gently.

Ulquiorra stirred and Grimmjow froze, afraid he'd been discovered, but Ulquiorra didn't move again. He must have been more tired than Grimmjow had first thought. The larger arrancar went back to exploring his mate's body. Months had passed since he'd first gotten the feeling that Ulquiorra was pregnant. He should be showing by now. Grimmjow leaned down and placed his head against Ulquiorra's stomach. He had to be hiding a child in this body.

When the hell had Grimmjow began to care so much about this in the first place? Did he want Ulquiorra to be pregnant? Ulquiorra had denied it every single time he'd asked so why couldn't Grimmjow just accept it?

Grimmjow cringed when there was suddenly a hand in his hair, nearly ripping it from his scalp.

"There. Is. Nothing. There," said Ulquiorra in a deadly whisper. His nails were digging into Grimmjow's scalp.

"Fuck!" swore Grimmjow, not even listening. "Would you fucking let go?" Ulquiorra loosened his grip, letting the blue strands slide through his fingers. He tore off his shirt for Grimmjow to see and guided the man's hand to his flat stomach.

"Nothing," he breathed again. Grimmjow's fingers curled beneath Ulquiorra's, but he made no other movements. He remained silent for a long while.

"What are you so afraid of, Ulquiorra?"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Months passed but Grimmjow never really forgot about their disagreement. Things were strained between them, even Sol was noticing. Ulquiorra hardly spoke to either of them, constantly brooding over something he refused to tell.

They were in the midst of changing locations. Winter was upon them, and they were moving to their winter home, trekking miles upon miles across the baron desert. Frankly, Ulquiorra looked like death. His eyes were dull and he dragged his feet in the sand.

When Sol had grown tired of walking, he had clawed at Ulquiorra, begging to be picked up. It took a while for the smaller arrancar to notice this, and Grimmjow moved to pick up the boy instead.

Ulquiorra shoved Grimmjow away, growling and gathered the child in his arms. For a few seconds both espada glared at each other, but Grimmjow wasn't in the mood for a fight. They continued on.

"Grim..." Sol whimpered after another few hours. Grimmjow ignored him. "Grim!" the second time it had been said louder...and fearfully. Grimmjow turned around, knowing something was wrong.

Ulquiorra was sitting in the sand a few paces behind, still holding his frightened son. When Grimmjow backtracked to him, he didn't say anything. He didn't even raise his head to look at his mate. He simply held out their child, relinquishing him to Grimmjow.

"Mommy!" said Sol as he changed hands, and again Ulquiorra didn't respond, "What's wrong with Mommy?" Grimmjow waited for Ulquiorra to answer.

"I'll...catch up."

Grimmjow stood there and considered for a moment. He thought about throwing Ulquiorra over his shoulder and carrying the both of them for the rest of the journey, but he got the feeling that Ulquiorra needed to be alone.

He continued on again, not looking back.

"Mommy..." Sol whimpered, waving a tiny hand good-bye.

They arrived at the winter cave and Grimmjow readied the kid for bed. The moon was gone and it was far too late for him to still be awake.

"Mommy's still out there," the boy said as he let his father place him in his little nest.

"You know he doesn't like it when you call him that."

"Will he come back?"

"Yeah. He won't leave us. Go to sleep."

Grimmjow sat outside, nose to the wind as if he might be able to pick up Ulquiorra's scent on it. He didn't like being apart like this and not knowing what was wrong. He shook his head roughly, reminding himself that it probably wasn't his business. If Ulquiorra wanted time to himself, Grimmjow would not bother him.

The man did return eventually. He was like a ghost in the pale moonlight. He walked with a limp. He reeked of blood. Grimmjow wondered if he'd been attacked, but the smell of blood was his own. Ulquiorra stopped before Grimmjow and hesitated, as if considering telling him something important. Then he walked past without a word.

"Where do you think you're going?" Grimmjow demanded.

"I'll stay the night out here," was the curt answer. Grimmjow's lips curled into a snarl as he watched Ulquiorra collapse against the wall. He wanted to slap the other arrancar across the face for his coldness. Didn't he realize how much the kid had been worrying about him?

"Suit yourself," Grimmjow muttered, getting up and retreating back inside.

Hours later, his light slumber was interrupted by a muffled cry. He looked over to Sol, but the kid was sleeping soundly. How strange. He could have sworn he'd heard someone call his name.

"Grimmjow!"

It was Ulquiorra's voice coming from outside. It was weak and full of uncertainty, as if it'd been a hard decision to even open open his mouth in the first place. Grimmjow stood up. Why the hell would Ulquiorra be calling for him? Never had he heard his name uttered in such a tone.

Outside, he was met with a horrific sight. Blood was everywhere...smeared on the rocks, seeping into the ground, pooling around Ulquiorra who knelt in the sandy dirt. It assaulted his senses, inducing a faint hunger and a strong panic.

"Jesus, Ulquiorra! Can't you control this? At this rate, we'll be swarmed by starving beasts." _At this rate...you wont survive_, he'd been too afraid to add. Ulquiorra crawled over to him, grabbing Grimmjow's leg with his bloody hands and holding tightly.

"Don't leave me...alone," Ulquiorra whispered shamefully.

"You'll be alone in hell if you don't do something!" Grimmjow told him. Despair set in as the smaller arrancar slowly came back to reality. Grimmjow caught him before he could fall.

"Can you help me...Grimmjow?" he asked quietly. If Ulquiorra had to ask something like that...it must really be serious. Grimmjow nodded and waited for instructions, but Ulquiorra didn't elaborate. He remained in Grimmjow's arms, breathing hard, and occasionally writhing in pain.

"Hang on..." began Grimmjow, "Ulquiorra, are you..." Ulquiorra didn't bother to finish the sentence for him. He picked up Murcielago and handed it to Grimmjow.

"My clothes."

Grimmjow used the blade to cut open the blood-soaked garment and free his suffering mate. He was a mess. Grimmjow's breath caught in his throat when he saw the progress.

"I'm too tired to do it on my own," the smaller espada said weakly, "Please, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow had paled slightly when he realized what Ulquiorra was asking him to do. Carefully, he laid the man on his back, receiving a hiss of discomfort. Ulquiorra dug his fingers into the ground, readying himself as Grimmjow reached between his legs.

Grimmjow began to pull gently. Everything was slick with blood and Ulquiorra let out a strangled moan as he eased the burden from his body. The blood kept coming even after if was finally over.

"Ulquiorra..." Grimmjow said slowly after several minutes had passed and both of them were too shocked to move, "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

She was tiny, easily fitting in Grimmjow's palms, but not tiny enough to have been inside Ulquiorra unnoticed. He had known, and he had chosen this day to terminate the pregnancy.

Grimmjow wasn't sure his mate had heard him. The weary, half-lidded look in Ulquiorra's eyes reminded Grimmjow that he had lost a great deal of blood and that he was probably still in a tremendous amount of pain. In the darkness, his eyes were fixed on the newborn babe Grimmjow held gently.

"There were too many complications," Ulquiorra breathed, "The timing was wrong. Had she been born when she was supposed to, it would have been the middle of winter. How could we have fed her? How could we have kept her warm during the cold nights? I couldn't place such a hardship on the rest of us." Grimmjow was silent for a moment, outraged that Ulquiorra had refused to share this with him. His reasoning made sense but Grimmjow was in disbelief over how Ulquiorra could be so coldly logical even when it concerned his own flesh and blood.

"Well you've left it too late, Ulquiorra. The kid's breathing."

"Barely," Ulquiorra responded tightly, "She's weak. She won't survive long. It would be best to just..." he trailed off, unable to finish. Ulquiorra rested a bloody hand on Grimmjow's knee, green eyes shining up at him in the dark. "Please...make it painless."

Grimmjow felt sick to his stomach. He knew he shouldn't. A weak child had no chance in the Hueco Mundo, where it was survival of the fittest.

"I asked you many times," began Grimmjow in a deadly whisper, "You didn't care enough to let me in on the secret. I don't feel sorry for you, Ulquiorra. This is your own fault. Kill it yourself." he held the pitiful infant out to his mate.

"Stop, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra shuddered and turned away, "If I hold her then..."

"'Then' what?" Grimmjow retorted hotly. He opened Ulquiorra's arms for him forcefully and placed the child in them. "Reap what you have sown, Ulquiorra."

The fourth espada was livid. His entire body shook as he cradled the small baby.

"Reap?" he asked bitterly, "Certainly, Grimmjow, I have reaped, but do not forget that you helped plant the seed!"

Grimmjow only growled in response, Pantera was out in a matter of miliseconds, aimed directly at Ulquiorra's throat. The smaller arracar held his head defiantly, but somehow Grimmjow didn't feel right taking this stance when Ulquiorra was sat there helpless, bathed in his own blood, and clutching a child that Grimmjow had indeed sired. He tossed the sword aside after a moment of contemplation and collapsed onto his ass beside Ulquiorra.

"Fuck!" he roared at nothing in particular. And the three of them sat there in silence, breathing, and at an utter loss. Out of the corner of his eye, Grimmjow could see the small movements of Ulquiorra's fingers as he stroked their child's tuft of dark hair.

"You're not alone, you know," Grimmjow said quietly, "I know it was like that the first time, but it's different now. If you woulda just said something, we wouldn't be in this mess. I could have..." he swallowed, "...taken care of you."

Ulquiorra raised his head slightly at the softly spoken words. They both knew that neither of them would apologize. Not verbally, at least. Ulquiorra leaned his weight onto Grimmjow, his exhaustion catching up to him. They both looked upon the new arrival with sorrowful eyes.

"What misfortune that this had to be the child with my looks," Ulquiorra finally said, his fingers trailing delicately over their child's tiny cheek. Already, the poor baby's skin was tinged with blue, a sure sign of oxygen deprivation. She would soon suffocate, and with neither of them willing to put her out of her misery, there was simply nothing they could do.

"Perhaps we should wake Sol. You know, so he can see her before..." Grimmjow cut himself off.

"No," replied Ulquiorra, "It will only confuse him."

They lapsed into silence once more, except now it was strained with emotion. They held each other long after the life in their hands had gone cold. Only when the moon was again peaking over the horizon did Grimmjow finally stir.

"It's time to move on," Grimmjow told his mate quietly. Held against Grimmjow's warm chest, Ulquiorra had spent the better half of the night fighting to keep his eyes open. Grimmjow attempted to pry the child from Ulquiorra but the other man held fast, perhaps refusing to accept what had happened.

"Ulquiorra," Grimmjow warned, "You are still bleeding. I don't want to have to bury the both of you." This at least seemed to jar him from his stupor.

"I've let myself mourn for too long," he admitted weakly. He let Grimmjow take the cold body of their small child, fingers shaking as she was pulled from his grasp. Grimmjow allowed Ulquiorra to watch as he dug a shallow grave and laid the pitiful form to rest. Then he returned to his mate and helped him up so that they could return to their home. He could easily have carried the other man, but he would let Ulquiorra keep his pride. Ulquiorra seemed to have noticed.

"You are too kind to me, sometimes," he said so quietly that Grimmjow was unsure if it was supposed to be heard. He chose not to respond.

Once inside, Grimmjow attempted to steer him toward what served as their bed, but Ulquiorra broke away and stumbled over to where their son was still asleep. He lifted the boy and rejoined his mate in their bed.

"Mmm?" the little boy rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to make sense of what was going on. He looked from one parent to the other curiously. "I'm not allowed in the bed when Grim is here," he reminded Ulquiorra. The fourth espada said nothing, only holding his son tighter.

"We're breaking the rules tonight," Grimmjow answered for him with a gentle pat to the kid's head. Sol giggled, but noticed that his parents didn't seem to share in his joy. He suddenly felt something wet on his cheek and looked up. His mommy was crying. But...that was impossible, right?

"Oi, oi," said Grimmjow, reaching up to roughly scrub the tears from Ulquiorra's face. "Not in front of the kid." He half expected Ulquiorra to push him away. He didn't. Instead he leaned into the touch, green eyes silently begging for consolation. Grimmjow drew him into a tight embrace, feeling Ulquiorra take a few, shuddering breaths against him. They weren't able to remain like this for long before tiny hands were pushing them apart.

"Stop! Stop!" said a very irritated Sol. He smoothed out his bent ear, exhaling dramatically. "You're smushing me."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: There you have it. It was the longest chapter I've ever written. I'm sure some of you loved it and some of you hated it. I would like to hear about it either way.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Thank you lilarin and Scarecrows foxx for the idea. Sorry it took this long to write it.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow awoke to wet sounds echoing in the dimly lit cavern. He rose from his bed curiously, eyes seeking out Ulquiorra at the other end of the room.

The smaller arrancar was hard at work bathing a very unhappy Sol. It was strange to see Ulquiorra use his tongue in such a manner. Strange...and enticing.

"When you're finished with him, there's a part of me that really needs a good cleaning," Grimmjow heard himself say aloud.

For a moment, Ulquiorra stopped and glared at him from across the cave. Then he resumed his licking stiffly, aware that he now had an audience. His face had flushed slightly. Perhaps he had not expected Grimmjow to catch him in the act of something so...loving.

Grimmjow yawned, stretched, and then went over to his family. He spent a few long minutes observing Ulquiorra's progress, making the man more than uncomfortable under his gaze.

"You're doing it all wrong," said Grimmjow quietly...suggestively. Ulquiorra threw him an angry look.

"If you are so concerned, then you may do it."

"I will _assist_ you," replied Grimmjow with a seductive grin.

Sol was indignant when he was suddenly trapped between both of his parents, facing a tongue on either side. His pouting turned into low whines when Grimmjow's sandpaper tongue was pulling on his hair.

"No, Grim! No!" said the small child. Except he still couldn't quite say his r's right and 'Grim' would come out sounding more like 'Gwim'.

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra both stopped when their tongues met accidentally. The pause was all that was needed for one naughty child to escape and begin rolling in the dirt once more. For the moment, neither parent seemed to care. Ulquiorra retracted his tongue, still staring at Grimmjow. The larger arrancar could have been mistaken, but those green eyes seemed to be begging him for attention.

Ulquiorra's breath hitched when Grimmjow leaned in and began to lick his mate in the same fashion as he had done to his cub.

"I am perfectly capable of that myself," he told the other man and Grimmjow had noticed the color rising in his face. "Stop." But Grimmjow would not. Ulquiorra turned away, but Grimmjow began biting his ear instead. The smaller espada snarled. "This doesn't amuse me."

"Mmmm," purred Grimmjow into his mate's neck, "Then what does? Maybe you'd like to tell me where you take off to during the late-night?" Ulquiorra stiffened. "That's right," Grimmjow continued, "You think I didn't notice that you slip away during our sleep hours?"

"Neither of us needs to know where the other goes," Ulquiorra told him, shortly.

"No," agreed Grimmjow, "I could be fucking someone else, but you _don't need to know_."

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes at Grimmjow, not taking kindly to his tone at all. He shifted closer to the larger man and sniffed him. Sniffed his hair, sniffed his clothing, sniffed his neck and chest. It tickled and Grimmjow pulled the smaller arrancar onto his lap. Ulquiorra, so engrossed in his task, didn't even protest. He continued searching Grimmjow for suspicious smells, even when the other's cock was pressing insistently against him.

"You aren't," Ulquiorra concluded.

Grimmjow growled his appreciation, the thought of Ulquiorra's jealousy adding to his arousal. This rather violent love they had for one another was exhilarating. His thoughts of what he would like to do to Ulquiorra were interrupted as there was suddenly a small hand tugging on his sleeve.

"Can we go, Grim? Please? Can we go now?"

"Go where?" Ulquiorra growled at the boy before Grimmjow could answer. Sol suddenly looked ashamed, as if he had given away a secret that he shouldn't have. His ears fell.

"I promised I would teach him how to hunt today," Grimmjow answered for the kid.

"He is too young," Ulquiorra said.

"And what if something happened to you and me, Ulquiorra? Then what? This is stuff he needs to know."

"Nothing will happen. There is no one out there stronger than me."

Grimmjow didn't reply. Perhaps Ulquiorra had said that so as not to scare the kid, but he was sure that they both had their doubts. It was a dangerous place, this world. There was _always_ something else lurking out there. Something waiting for you to drop your guard. Something waiting to devour you the moment you thought you were safe. But, now that he was so used to their company, perhaps Ulquiorra was reluctant to admit how fragile their happy little pack really was.

"Please?" the tiny arrancar asked, looking up at his mother. "Please? I've been good." Grimmjow knew that those big, blue eyes were a weakness for Ulquiorra. He might pretend otherwise, but he could never say no to them.

The fourth espada stood up.

"Let's go! Let's go!" Sol said excitedly, already heading out into the night.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"He's too young," Ulquiorra stated for the umpteenth time as he and Grimmjow hid themselves in the brush a short distance away.

"Would you just SHUT UP?" Grimmjow growled in response, "Let the kid have a go."

Ulquiorra obeyed, far less interested in Grimmjow than in the child now quietly stalking his prey.

From here, it was easy to see just how much the boy had grown. While still a bit clumsy, he could walk and run with ease now. While still tiny, he was taller, and his limbs had grown longer. His hair was at his shoulders and he refused to let Grimmjow touch it, claiming that he wanted to look just like Ulquiorra.

He was crouched behind a rock, eyes fixed on the small hollow that his parents had chosen to be his first kill. His ears were perked and his tail twitched occasionally as he watched the thing with an excited smile.

When the unsuspecting hollow ventured too close, Sol pounced. He missed by several inches and his meal began to scamper away as fast as possible. The boy let out an audible noise of frustration and pursued. To Grimmjow, it looked as though it would be impossible for the kid to catch it now, but he was stunned when Sol disappeared for a moment and then reappeared, managing to tackle his prey to the ground.

"Did you know he could do that?" Grimmjow whispered to his mate.

"I...did not," Ulquiorra responded slowly.

"I did it! I did it! Come look!" The boy was shouting. Grimmjow stalked over to him and ruffled his hair.

"Nice job, kid." Sol beamed at the praise, turning toward Ulquiorra and hoping to hear something similar.

"You're not finished yet," the fourth espada said, causing the boy's smile to falter. He looked slightly confused.

"But I-"

"Kill it."

"...huh? I-"

"Kill it," repeated Ulquiorra in a voice that made his son shrink in on himself. The boy looked crushed. Grimmjow knew that the child lived to please Ulquiorra. Sol gulped and returned his attention to the hollow that was still struggling in his grasp. After a few moments of silence, Grimmjow stepped forward and held out Pantera.

"Here. Do it with this."

There was a moment of hesitation. The boy was very aware of the dangers of his parents' swords, but he took it without complaint, wanting desperately to show off how grown-up he was. He held the blade to the captured hollow, but Grimmjow could see it shaking in his hands. Then it seemed as though they boy had forgotten what to do. A minute passed like this...then two...then...

Ulquiorra blasted a cero, obliterating the creature all-together. Sol refused to look up from the charred crater in the sand.

"Mercy does not exist in the Hueco Mundo," Ulquiorra told the boy, "Do not give it and certainly do not count on it." He took Pantera out of his son's hands and returned it to Grimmjow.

"This is why he is too young, Grimmjow," the fourth espada told his mate, speaking loud enough for his son to overhear. "Let us go back and stop wasting time with this." He began walking in the direction of home.

"Ch..." Grimmjow snorted, frustratedly. "C'mon," he grunted to the boy over his shoulder.

"No," said Sol, planting himself firmly in the sand.

"Let's go," Grimmjow growled louder this time, "Don't be a brat."

"No!" the kid yelled, "I'm staying here!" Ulquiorra turned around after hearing the boy's upset voice.

"Leave him, Grimmjow. He has no where else to go. No one else to go to. And if he doesn't come back, he'll end up another hollow's meal." The words were said slow and deliberately threatening. Sol scrunched up his face in anger.

"I'm gonna run away and never come back! Then you'll see!" he shouted. For a moment, Ulquiorra looked contemplative, then he used sonido to appear before his son.

"Will you? And what would that prove other than that you are a spoiled, ungrateful child? Perhaps Grimmjow tolerates this insubordination, but I will not be so lenient. Now come." Ulquiorra grabbed the boy's arm in a bruising grip. For a moment, he was still but then Grimmjow saw what had happened. Sol had sunk sharp teeth into his arm. Blood leaked onto the sand.

With an impassive expression, Ulquiorra backhanded the child. The boy squeaked in surprise as he was thrown several feet back. In a heap on the ground, he stared with wide eyes, hand going to his face where a nasty bruise was forming. He broke into tears.

"I HATE YOU!" Sol screeched. Ulquiorra raised his arm, but Grimmjow stepped in and caught him before he could strike the child again.

The fourth espada merely stared at his mate, his green eyes telling him that if he didn't let go, there was going to be a problem. Grimmjow wouldn't budge.

"You'll break him and then you'll regret it," Grimmjow answered. Then he looked over to the boy who was crying loudly. "If you're gonna run, then run." The child turned his eyes upward, giving Grimmjow the most confused and pitiful of looks. Grimmjow found his next words a bit hard to say. "Go on! You want to show us you're a man right? Well men don't sit there and cry."

Angry and frightened, with tears streaming down his cheeks, the child stood and took off in the opposite direction as fast as his legs would carry him. He didn't look back.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Perhaps...I reacted badly," Ulquiorra said, looking down at his hands as if they had committed a heinous act. He and Grimmjow were at the water's edge and Grimmjow was attempting to wash a bloody stain from his shirt.

Grimmjow merely grunted, not even sure himself if it was in agreement. He continued with the task at hand, but he had studied the fourth espada long enough to know there was something eating at him.

"His feelings toward me are irrelevant, and yet...I can't seem to stop those words from playing over and over in my head." Ulquiorra continued, relaying his thoughts in a manner that hardly made sense.

Grimmjow stood up, wringing the water out of his jacket. He threw the damp garment over his shoulder and went over to his mate.

"Ya just don't get it, Ulquiorra. He doesn't actually hate you," Grimmjow told him. Ulquiorra stared at him, slightly puzzled. Grimmjow sighed."Ya know, sometimes I forget that you're a retard when it comes to this sort of stuff." He broke into a slower, slightly patronizing voice. "Maybe if you weren't so cold all the time...or if you told him that he's doing a good job...or that he's a good kid, this kind of shit wouldn't happen."

"There are no other children in the Hueco Mundo that I know of. How am I to know if he is a good child when I have nothing to reference?" was Ulquiorra's monotone answer. Grimmjow slapped himself in the face. This was just not going to work.

"Fuck, Ulquiorra. You were the goddamn fourth espada!" Grimmjow yelled in his face, getting into the other's personal space. "How does such a simple concept elude you?" He threw his hands in the air, exasperated, when Ulquiorra gave no response. "Just go find your damn kid. He doesn't hate you, and neither you nor I wanted to treat him like that," Grimmjow continued softer, "Hell, I like that little guy too much to let him be alone out there all night."

Ulquiorra seemed a surprised by his words. It was like that every time Grimmjow admitted to caring about the kid. The smaller arrancar took a few steps forward so that he and Grimmjow were standing only a foot apart.

"Are you dissatisfied with me as a mate?"

Grimmjow snorted in response. He was never satisfied- Ulquiorra should know that by now. Then again, he'd be lying if he told Ulquiorra yes. They made a good team, they just happened to fuck up sometimes.

"I see," Ulquiorra continued when he was given only silence, "I shall not return home until I have found him. Then, I intend to remedy this tension between ourselves as well."

"I'll be waiting," Grimmjow answered.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Come on! Come on out and play with us. We haven't finished the game," the big, ugly hollow with the scary face said. Sol squished himself farther into the crack in the rock. He could not see the moon anymore. How long had he been here? He scrubbed the sand and tears out of his eyes. He wanted to go home.

"We just wanna play. We're so hungry...err... lonely." the hollow with the long claws said. He attempted to pry the rock apart, reaching in and nearly touching him with those razor sharp nails. Sol cried harder.

"My mommy and daddy are watching," the boy sobbed, his voice wavering, "If you don't let me go, they will come and hurt you!"

"'Mommy and daddy'? What's he on about?" the scary hollow cackled to his friend. "There's no one coming to save you, little arrancar. You can try to hide from us, but sooner or later we will get you and we will make you into a delicious snack."

It was the same thing Ulquiorra had told him about. The world was a bad place when you are all alone. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He should never have said those things to his mommy.

All further talking was interrupted by a great explosion. For a moment, Sol covered his ears. Then, his eyes went wide when he felt a familiar reiatsu. Peaking from around the rock, he caught sight of a black-winged demon fighting the two bad hollows. It was dark but Sol could still see all of the blood.

It was definitely Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra had come to rescue him! Sol stood there, transfixed as he watched the beautiful and terrible creature that was his mother. Watched as he mutilated those two bad hollows without mercy. Watched as he tossed their dead bodies aside. Watched as he didn't even bat an eyelash afterword.

When it was all over, Ulquiorra knelt in the sand in front of Sol's really good hiding place. Sol stayed quiet. Maybe he wouldn't notice anyone was here. For a few minutes, no one breathed.

"I know you are there," Ulquiorra said in a quiet voice, "You can come out." Sol didn't move. "Are you afraid of this form?" Ulquiorra wondered aloud, cocking his head to the side, and looking over, briefly, to his large black wings.

"I'm not afraid of anything!" Sol cried, "I'm big now." He marched out of the crevice, but still stopped several feet short of his mommy. Ulquiorra's tail did the rest of the work, grabbing Sol and dragging him closer.

"Allow me to apologize for earlier. It was not my intention for this to happen to you."

Sometimes, he could not understand everything Ulquiorra told him. This was one of those times, but from the way his mommy was touching him, petting his hair softly, running his fingers over his bruised cheek, Sol could tell that he wasn't angry anymore. The boy sniffled. He didn't want to cry anymore in front of his mommy but he couldn't stop it at that moment.

"I'll be good! I promise! I want to go home!" Sol cried, "I wont say bad things anymore! Please, I want to go home!" Incomprehensible sobs followed and Ulquiorra did not answer, only unfurling his big black wings and taking to the sky with the sobbing child in his arms.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Well?" demanded Grimmjow after Ulquiorra had landed.

"He is unhurt," the fourth espada replied, bringing the sleeping child into view so that Grimmjow could assess him.

"He healed his face," Grimmjow noted, "Did you know he could do that?"

"No..." Ulquiorra answered slowly, marveling for a moment at the place where the discoloration had been. "I suppose he is _our _son...after all."

Grimmjow stiffened when he felt something wrap around his leg. Ulquiorra's tail slithered up his body, a move so bold Grimmjow could hardly believe it.

"Lie with me tonight."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

With the kid put to bed properly, Grimmjow joined his mate out under the moonlight. He'd barely stepped outside when he was attacked by the other man. Ulquiorra straddled him, trapping him underneath his slight form. Their chests rose and fell rapidly as they gazed at each other with a hunger only the other's body could sate. Ulquiorra continued to stare him down and Grimmjow took that as his cue to move on. He flipped them so that Ulquiorra was beneath him but the fourth espada didn't seem pleased with this at all. He growled and returned them to their previous position. With Ulquiorra in his released state and Grimmjow only in his human form, the other arrancar had no choice but to comply.

"You are uncomfortable. This position makes you feel inferior to me," Ulquiorra remarked. His whispered voice in the open, night air was unintentionally seductive. It sent shivers down Grimmjow's spine.

"Aren't I? Doesn't four come before six?"

"Most often, Sexta."

"Well I'll have you know I can fuck just as good from down here." As if to prove his point, Grimmjow undulated his hips, rocking the man on top of him.

Kissing and touching followed suit. When their cocks stood tall and weeping, Grimmjow grabbed a handful of Ulquiorra's fine, dark hair and guided him down. The other man gave him a hard look.

"C'mon," Grimmjow goaded, "Use your mouth," Slightly annoyed green eyes sparkled at him in the darkness, but then slowly, Grimmjow felt his member enveloped in Ulquiorra's hot mouth. He hissed his pleasure at this, opening his eyes enough to stare triumphantly at the once haughty espada sucking him off. He grinned widely and let things continue like this. Eventually Ulquiorra came to his senses. He released Grimmjow, saliva trailing from his mouth.

"Why must I humiliate myself in this manner?" he growled under his breath.

"I haven't forgotten about you," Grimmjow responded, grabbing hold of the other arrancar's hardness. Ulquiorra was wary, but Grimmjow soon had him gazing at him lustfully after a few quick strokes. He was looking up at Ulquiorra and noticed that the curious expression he wore was the same as the first time they'd had sex. Their positions had been reversed but the memory was suddenly vivid in Grimmjow's mind.

"Do it," spoke Ulquiorra. It was resigned, but the sigh that followed let Grimmjow know Ulquiorra was just as eager as he. Slick with several bodily fluids, slipping in was easy. Once joined, Ulquiorra shuddered, wrapping his arms around the larger arrancar and digging his nails into his skin. Grimmjow forced his hips to stay still. His eyes found Ulquiorra's, noticing the strange look in them.

"I want all of you," the fourth espada said with conviction, "come inside."

Grimmjow purred in approval, starting an even rhythm. They'd not had a night of passion like this in a long time. Grimmjow was starting to remember his attraction to this strange man. Years of cohabitation had taught them a cooperation that made their lives rather dull. They'd forgotten their rivalry, forgotten that they were beings of similar strength that came together to mate simply for Aizen's designs. Tonight, their feelings returned with a vengence. Alive, with these bodily needs tormenting them, coming together was the easy part. Admitting that they wanted wanted the company just as much as the other's body was the hard part.

Shaking and sweat-drenched, the two copulated upon the dry earth with the moon as their only witness. The tightness that was Ulquiorra's body drove Grimmjow to completion after what seemed like hours.

The small breeze that drifted past cooled their feverish bodies somewhat. Ulquiorra was still staring down at him, as if memorizing every contour of his body. Even after they'd come off their high, they remained attached. Ulquiorra sat tall upon him. He flexed his wings, obscuring the sky from view. His tail, which had coiled tightly around Grimmjow while they'd fucked, loosened it's constricting hold. Grimmjow noted how beautiful his mate was like this. Calm and content but bearing all the unmistakable signs of one who had just acted on his lust. It wasn't necessarily beauty in the conventional sense, but beauty nonetheless. Beauty in this ugly world.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: I've long since stopped watching bleach but for some reason I find arrancar and the entire Hueco Mundo to be endlessly fascinating. Here, none of the rules of society apply. Hollows live like animals. They kill each other and eat each other to survive. And this is why I love pushing the boundaries and writing sometimes horrible things. In the previous chapter for example, in the Hueco Mundo, what Ulquiorra did would be not only necessary but completely acceptable in their lawless world. Same goes with this chapter. You and I might not agree with child abuse, but we are not hollows.

Anyway, I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page since a lot of my upcoming ideas are slightly disturbing as well. Happy reading and please review!


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: There has been a time jump between this chapter and the last. This chapter features a Sol who's in his early teens (or at least has the mentality of a teen. We all know arrancars age much slower)

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A lone hollow crept along a wall of crumbling, white stone. He'd been coming here for a number of days now. He could get lost in this sea of ruin. Only bits and pieces of the Hueco Mundo's only ever civilization remained. He could sift through the sand and find a number of alien objects still untouched by the flow of time. He could close his eyes and still feel traces of reiatsu left behind by powerful hollows that once roamed these halls. As he walked, he could swear he heard the whispers of haunted souls.

It remained a fearful place to most other hollow. Few dared to tread upon the remains. None wished to claim the territory for themselves and it had become nothing but a rotting no-man's-land, housing secrets and treasures that superstition prevented most from discovering.

Sol had always felt drawn to this place. Often, he would enter a trance-like state and his feet would take him here, no matter how many warnings his parents had given him to stay clear of it. They never spoke of it, never told him what its purpose was or who once lived here. The subject was taboo and even the hollows that Sol would catch for food refused to speak a word. There was an aura of death surrounding these ruins, but someone or something always seemed to be beckoning Sol closer.

"Why am I here?" the young arrancar whispered quietly, not exactly knowing to whom he was speaking, "It's not allowed. I'll be scolded." He waited anxiously to be answered. Silence passed, and then as if from inside his own head:

_Heh, that's never stopped you before. I couldn't make you do something you truly didn't want to do. After all…we are one. As for why we are here, this place holds some significance to us. The first time you called upon my power was in this very spot._

"Are you the one that's been calling for me?," Sol replied, getting over his initial shock. He felt as though he had heard this voice many times before. "Can't you tell me who you are?"

_But you already know! That is the beautiful thing. Just say my name and I will appear. You are ready._

"Ready for what?"

_To start upon the path that all arrancar must take. To shoulder the burden of my unspeakable power. Look around you at this destruction! This is what I am capable of. Do you desire it?_

"I…" Sol hesitated, his eyes gazing once more upon the vast ruin, "...did this?"

_Your hesitation proves your worthiness. Come! Speak my name and we will do __**great**__ things. Hehehe…_

"I don't know your name."

_You do, _the voice assured him, _I am your light in the darkness…your luz en la oscuridad…_

"Luz…" Sol whispered, the word rolling off his tongue slowly. The voice in his head laughed approvingly.

_That's it boy…_

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"What's your problem?" Grimmjow asked him, turning back to where his mate was standing several feet behind upon the trail. Ulquiorra stood still, narrow eyes scanning the dark trees and nose working to decipher the strange scent lingering in the air. The forest was dead here. No other sounds but their own seemed to penetrate the deep silence. The chill traveling down Ulquiorra's spine made it feel as though someone was watching him.

"This place is evil," Ulquiorra said quietly, "We should leave." Grimmjow only laughed at that, unsheathing Pantera and slicing through the thick brush.

"Oh? I thought there was 'no one out there stronger than you'." he said with a smirk. Ulquiorra ignored the comment.

"There are dark places in this world that simply aren't meant to be explored. I feel that we are on the threshold of one of them, Grimmjow," the smaller arrancar warned his mate, "There must be a reason no other hollow wanders into this area. We need to stop here or we will risk inciting the wrath of powers even we might not be able to fathom."

"Mmm," Grimmjow purred, his eyes lighting up at this, "Sounds like a challenge." The fourth espada didn't respond. Only an idiot like Grimmjow would be excited at the prospect of encountering a being with god-like power. Grimmjow took his silence differently. His face adopted a wide grin. "Don't worry. I'll protect ya," he said, puffing out his chest, "And the baby."

Ulquiorra's eyes widened slightly. He didn't realize Grimmjow already knew.

"The day I need your protection will be a sad day indeed."

Grimmjow only shrugged. He went over to a tree, lowered his pants, and pissed on it. "There," he said with a satisfied hiss. He fixed his hakama back onto his waist. "If no other hollow wants this part of the forest, I have no problem taking it." Ulquiorra stiffened, suddenly feeling that Grimmjow had just made a terrible mistake, as if the tree he had just urinated on was something holy.

"What's the matter, Ulquiorra? Chicken?"

No sooner than Grimmjow spoke, a swarm of black creatures emptied from the trees and overtook the two of them. Darkness pressed down around them, suffocating them. Ulquiorra reached for his katana but found it not at his waist. In fact, the world was spinning. In order to fight, he needed to dispel this illusion, but how...

Red eyes were staring into his soul. Their gaze was paralyzing and Ulquiorra found that he could not look away. Sad and horrible thoughts invaded his mind. They were not his own, but they tortured him all the same. He was overcome with the maddening urge to take his own life in that very moment, even though the part of him that was still sane was railing against it. His nails scraped at his own flesh.

Grimmjow's loud yell from somewhere near cleared his mind somewhat. He ducked to the ground in time to evade Grimmjow's _Desgarron, _watching as claws tore through the veil of darkness. The illusion ended just as soon as it had begun. Ulquiorra blinked several times to make sure he was seeing the world as it ought to be seen. Standing up, he noticed the wounds on his body that he had inflicted himself. Quickly healing them, he shuddered upon thinking what else he might have done to himself had Grimmjow not interfered.

But where _was_ Grimmjow? For a moment, Ulquiorra stood there alone in the silence. Then he heard the unmistakable groans of his mate in terrible pain coming from the nearby trees. He approached cautiously, still wary of what he might find.

Grimmjow was writhing on the forest floor, his body covered in lacerations. Ulquiorra knelt next to him and surveyed the damage. He could see that most of the man's wounds were self-inflicted and already healing, but there was a large slash upon his chest that refused to close. The skin around the area was discolored, as if the blade that had cut him had been poisoned. Grimmjow howled when he touched it.

"This looks serious, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra told him quietly, his eyebrows drawn together with concern.

"Leave it. I can heal it. Just...give me a minute," the blue-haired arrancar said. The trees around them creaked ominously with an unnatural wind. The alien feeling of fear invaded Ulquiorra's mind as his eyes momentarily scanned the darkness.

"We don't have a minute. We need to leave."

"You think I'm gonna let him get away after that? No! We fight!" Grimmjow's breathing was becoming labored.

"You are in no state to fight. This is beyond us, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra replied. Ignoring the other man's protests and painful noises, he took his mate roughly in his arms. "Hold on," he breathed in Grimmjow's ear. He changed his form, black wings immediately snapping open and launching the two of them into canopy. They dodged the branches and limbs until they came upon an opening in the earth ceiling that was spilling light into the underground forest. Higher they climbed until bursting into the open air and spiraling upward into the night sky.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Sol stared hard at the blade lying on the sand before him. It was long and it looked heavy. He wanted to touch it, but there was something strange about it. Perhaps it was the color. The sheath was black as midnight. Perhaps it was how it had appeared out of thin air or how Sol could hear its voice in his head. His whole life he had been warned about the dangers of hollows who carried swords.

He inhaled sharply when he felt his parents' reiatsu signatures somewhere far overhead. His quickly hid, not wanting to be discovered in such a forbidden place. He had little to worry about, however, because he knew he was far better at detecting reiatsu than both his parents. From the direction they were heading, they must be returning home. Sol felt a flicker of excitement when he thought about showing them his sword. He could already imagine their pleased reactions. He picked up the katana from the sand and raced home.

Coming upon the cave, Sol immediately could feel that something was not right.

"Stay outside," Ulquiorra told him when he realized he was there. It was then that Sol knew that something terrible must have happened. His desire to please Ulquiorra was over-ridden and he entered the cave anyway, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Grimmjow," Ulquiorra whispered in a demanding tone. Grimmjow was lying on the floor, unmoving, even as Ulquiorra shook him. "Sexta," but the man refused to open his eyes. Ulquiorra slapped him. And again. And again. Harder each time. "Wake, you damn fool!"

Sol felt sick as he watched this display. His father was hurt...badly. A few more minutes passed and finally a low groan fell from Grimmjow's lips.

"Water, Sol," Ulquiorra growled. Sol left and returned quickly as he could. Perhaps too quickly. Ulquiorra barely had time to hide his anguished expression. He took the container from Sol and tipped the liquid down Grimmjow's throat with hands that were far from steady. Sol noticed the deep, purplish wound across his father's chest. Grimmjow's eyes found his.

"Heya, kid," he said, his eyes brightening slightly. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, "That's a fine zanpakuto you've got there." The grimace he wore said it was painful to talk. Sol's grip on the hilt of his sword tightened. He swallowed thickly and knelt on the ground next to the arrancar he so closely resembled. His body felt numb.

"Tomorrow, will you spar with me?" Sol asked. His own voice sounded weak and far away. It seemed like such a stupid question to ask, but he dared to hope.

"Of course, kid," Grimmjow coughed a series of sickly coughs. When he tried to smile, blood stained his teeth and lips.

"Liar!" replied Sol. He understood. From the way Grimmjow looked, and from the way Ulquiorra spoke to him, he could tell his father was dying. Sol could feel the tears already streaming down his cheeks even though he knew he was far too old to cry.

"What are you shedding tears over? You've always said Ulquiorra was a better teacher anyway..." Grimmjow panted. Sol only shook his head. "You guys...don't need me."

Ulquiorra looked startled when Grimmjow suddenly grabbed his hair and pulled him down into a rough kiss. He petted his mate's black hair gently and the atmosphere suddenly turned heavy, "I guess...I have a final request," Grimmjow whispered softly into his ear, "Name the new one after me, won't you?"

Ulquiorra broke away slowly, untangling Grimmjow's fingers from his black mane and reaching up to dab at the blood now smeared onto his lips. For a moment, he didn't say anything, but his hand drifted to where his normally trim waist had begun to round. The roar of a hollow pieced the silence of the night. It was joined by another. They were close. The moment was broken and Ulquiorra stood.

"The stench of your blood has led scavengers to our den," Ulquiorra stated quietly. Murcielago in hand, he made for the exit, pausing for a moment to stare at his mate through the corner of his eye. "Grimmjow...if you give up, then a name is something neither of us will have to worry about," he finished cryptically, "I will return shortly."

Sol watched him go, wondering if he should help, before Grimmjow's painful laugh drew his attention.

"That little..." Again, he coughed. When he spoke next it was serious, "It's up to you to take care of him now, Sol. You will, right?" Sol found himself looking into his own, blue eyes when he looked into his father's. He nodded as fresh tears spilled onto his cheeks. With that, Grimmjow seemed relieved. "Good. Now help me up, kid. A real man has to die alone."

Sol was taller stronger now, nearly at Ulquiorra's height, but he still found it difficult to support the weight of his father as they dragged themselves over the sandy dunes. Wind lifted the sand and swirled it around them, causing it to bite their skin and sting their eyes. The moon was gone and the night was dark and lonely.

"This is...far enough. I'll...take it from here," Grimmjow could barely speak anymore. Sol let go, but refused to leave the man's side. He'd seen death many, many times, of hollows all shapes and sizes. Why was Grimmjow's so much different? He grit his teeth angrily at the thought of losing his father, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. His eyes traveled to the sword still clutched in his hand.

_Do you want to save him?_

"More than anything in the world," Sol replied, without hesitation, biting back a sob.

_Then command me. Say the word._

"What word?" Sol cried impatiently.

_What word? Boy, what is the only command you can give the light?_ the voice of his sword sneered at him. Sol thought briefly before the answer became obvious.

"Shine."

The world erupted in a powerful, blinding flash. Light spilled over the landscape, making the sand sparkle brilliantly and withering the sparse plants under its intensity. For a moment, everything was illuminated by something far brighter than weak moonlight. Things that were never meant to be seen were bared. This luminosity stretched up to the heavens like a beacon. It was beautiful...but it was terrifying.

When he felt the light once again grow dim, Sol opened his eyes. He could feel changes to his body and an overwhelming power simmering inside him. For a moment he marveled at his new appearance, flexing the wings on his back, swishing his long, whip-like tail, and feeling the black fur now coating his body. Then he turned hopefully to Grimmjow, but saw, with a sinking heart, that nothing had changed. Still bleeding, still dying his slow, painful death. Even the sad, proud smile he wore was the same.

But wait...there was someone else here. Sol whirled around.

"It's been centuries since I have seen something like that. My eyes...have forgotten what its like to look upon the sun." He was not a hollow, of that much, Sol was certain. His reiatsu was strange and foreign, but his body was shaped like a man instead of a beast. With uneven, reddish hair adorning his head, a sword at his hip, and a cloak made up of hollow skins, he was like nothing Sol had ever encountered before. Sol bared his teeth at the stranger, daring him to come closer.

"I am not a threat to you, young arrancar. I merely followed the light to this spot," the man explained, "With your permission I will attempt to heal the pitiful creature behind you." Sol was wary, but he had nothing to lose by accepting the offer. He stood aside.

"...don't need...a shinigami's help...get lost." Grimmjow growled. He was ignored and Sol watched, eyes wide, as the stranger used some sort of magic to close his wound. It was a power Sol had never seen before. Hollows were extremely skilled when it came to healing themselves, but they lacked the ability to heal someone else.

Ulquiorra's reiatsu caused them all to look up. He landed on the sand behind Sol, looking rather frightening drenched in blood, and holding Murcielago out threateningly. He must have finished dealing with the intruders. Sol suppressed a shiver when Ulquiorra sniffed him experimentally, as if making sure that Sol (in his new form) was indeed his child. Next he addressed the stranger.

"It has been a while, shinigami."

"Ashido," the man corrected, "You can at least use my name." Ulquiorra didn't respond to that and Ashido went back to work, doing something that caused Grimmjow to hiss in pain.

"Why won't you people...fuckin...let me die?" the blue-haired arrancar moaned in agony. Ulquiorra stepped forward.

"You'll die when I say you can die, piece of shit," he snarled, angrier than Sol had ever seen him. He walked to Grimmjow's side and used his sword to tilt the wounded man's head up. "You are no martyr, Grimmjow. Your death had no meaning," his voice dropped into a furious whisper, "So for the sake of me, and for the sake of your _posterity, _Do NOT shut your eyes."

"Cruel bastard..." Grimmjow spat, "...I love...you too..." His panting slowed and his head fell limply back onto the sand. He closed his tired blue eyes.

"You promised me I would never have to be alone again. Was that a lie, Grimmjow?" No response. Ulquiorra's sword fell from his grip and he collapsed onto his knees. "-can't leave me like this," he continued in a voice almost too quiet to hear, "...after everything we've done...after all this time. If you go, then I might...as well..."

Sol looked to him sharply. What was Ulquiorra suggesting? Was he really about to lose both of his parents? Was he not good enough? Anger, despair, and frustration blended into a nauseating torrent of emotion within him.

"Mr...Ashido," Sol began hesitantly. He was still unsure of how to address the stranger, "Is he...

"No," answered the shinigami. He stood. "I've put him into a comatose state to slow the spread of the poison, but it won't be long. This time tomorrow he will be dead." Sol grit his teeth, the words hitting him like a cero to the chest.

"There must be a way to save him. I will do anything!" Sol cried. The shinigami turned to face him. His eyes shifted from Sol to Ulquiorra and then back again as if contemplating something.

"There is an arrancar who knows more than anyone else about poisons," he said slowly, "However..."

"We have no choice." It was Ulquiorra who spoke this time, "We must enlist the aid of Szayel Aporro Granz."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: You may have noticed that now Sol mostly calls his parents by their names. I honestly can't imagine him calling Ulquiorra and Grimmjow "Mom" and "Dad" now that he is older.

Anyway I was extremely exited to write this chapter because I had the coolest fucking idea for Szayel and I couldn't wait to share it.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ashido took the time to study the young arrancar. He hated hollows, every single one of them. They were decrepit creatures that lived only obeying their instincts. They killed and ate each other without remorse. They'd slaughtered his friends. They'd taken everything from him. There was nothing good about them at all...really.

So why did he get this strange, sentimental feeling when he gazed upon the offspring of Ulquiorra Cifer and Grimmjow Jeagerjacks?

He hadn't seen the boy in decades. Then, he'd been but a tiny baby unable to do anything but cry for the arms of his caregiver. So soft...so innocent...even though he'd been born of two monsters. My, how he'd grown over the years. Already he was the same height as his "mother". His body was long and lean with his current appearance mirroring that of Ulquiorra when he released his zanpakuto. But of course he remained a child. There was no mistaking those eyes...eyes shining with an innocence unheard of in this world of darkness and death.

"Where can I find this 'Szayel'?" Sol demanded, still clinging to the limp body of his father. Ashido couldn't help but wonder why this little arrancar was so concerned over Grimmjow's impending death. True, they were father and son, but they were also hollow. It wasn't the same. The man finished his physical assessment of the boy and opened his mouth to answer, but Ulquiorra spoke first.

"_You_ are not going. I am." Ulquiorra said simply, "Alone." Sol would not have it.

"Grimmjow made me promise to protect you."

"Grimmjow is an idiot, Sol. This man...This Szayel...He'll capture you, torture you, and take you apart piece by piece. I do not wish that to happen to you." Ulquiorra responded quietly.

"If he tries that, I'll cut him to shreds! Let me do this!" Sol growled. Clearly, he was unhappy being treated like a child. He wanted to save his father. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to show Ulquiorra that he was worth something and that he could take on the duty that apparently Grimmjow had entrusted him with. For a moment, it seemed like Ulquiorra might just give in. His eyes studied his son hard, as if measuring him against the task he wanted to undertake. Then he shook his head.

"You have no idea what this man is capable of," Ulquiorra said with finality, "Take Grimmjow home and stay there. I'll return before the moon rises." He cleaned the sand from his blade and placed it back in the sheath at his belt. His coattails swished as he turned sharply and began walk away, but he was forced to stop as Sol's long, black tail wrapped around his arm.

"And if you don't come back?"

Ulquiorra glared at him warningly from the corner of his eye, but Sol refused to back down.

"I am the fourth espada," Ulquiorra stated simply in response, aware that this would make no sense to the boy, "You were a good child, Sol. Without you, Grimmjow and I would have remained enemies for all eternity. You have my gratitude," he added stiffly. Sol was forced to let him go and watch him leave with an angry heart.

Ashido was more than amazed by what he'd seen thus far. These arrancar interacted...almost as if a family should. It wasn't like any family Ashido himself had ever witnessed, but the elements were there. That these beasts were actually capable of following the traditional archetypes of mother, father, and child was beyond belief.

The sand around them swirled dangerously as the child arrancar's reiatsu, uninhibited by a human form, rose to a frightening level in his anger. Ashido could feel his emotion in the air. He was torn between wanting to follow Ulquiorra and at the same time wanting to watch over Grimmjow. Ashido would make his choice easier.

"Do those wings of yours work?" the shinigami asked in a low voice. The boy was caught off guard. His anger faltered.

"Of course they do!" he snapped defensively.

"Then why are you still here?" Ashido said. He pulled the unconscious form of Grimmjow onto his back and replaced the stolen hollow mask over his face. For a moment the boy was simply confused. Then his eyes widened as he realized what the shinigami was telling him to do.

"Watch over my father," he said. Ashido gave him a small nod as an answer. The boy arrancar spread his black wings to their full span- an impressive length- and after a few clumsy tries managed to get airborne.

"Good luck," the shinigami breathed after the retreating figure had already disappeared into the starless sky.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

To the north Ulquiorra flew, leaving the Hueco Mundo's great desert, the dominion that he and Grimmjow had conquered, and entering into what was known as the Wastelands. Here, no forest lied beneath the sands and the earth was dry and lifeless. Shear cliffs of solid rock rose up to meet the sky. Grimmjow and he had never had much interest in this territory, as there was little game and water could only be found by burrowing deep underground.

He and Grimmjow had never once spoken of the final great battle that had taken place at Las Noches between the Arrancar and Shinigami. It had been avoided at every opportunity, Ulquiorra knew, because he and Grimmjow were both ashamed by what they had done. Ulquiorra always felt that perhaps if he had been present, he could have made a difference. This thought was slightly ridiculous, for at the time the battle took place, Ulquiorra was weakened and had a newborn child to tend to, and that cleared his conscience somewhat. What of Grimmjow, though? What thoughts must the traitor have about a battle he likely had a hand in orchestrating? Had he even come to watch the destruction of his comrades? Had he merely stood on the sidelines or had he played an active role in eliminating them? And which was more despicable?

The point, however, was that Ulquiorra didn't know. He didn't know what exactly had taken place that day, and more importantly he didn't know which, if any, espada had survived. Frankly, he hadn't much cared up until this point. They were all trash to him. But now things were different as Grimmjow's life was on the line.

Now, all Ulquiorra had to go by was a scent on the wind and curious findings of past expeditions into this area. He didn't even know if Szayel remained alive and only had whispered gossip to confuse him. It was clear, however, that something ominous lurked in these parts.

Ulquiorra reached a sort of juncture in the cliffs when he felt a change in the surrounding reiastu. He changed his form immediately, not wanting to set off a trap. Unfortunately he was too late.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"What is it, B50?"

"A foreign reiatsu signature has entered sector 13."

"Deal with it immediately,"

"Negative. Sensors reading over 1 million spsi, arrancar-level reiatsu."

" One moment. Informing central command...Recieved...Awaiting orders..." there was a long pause, "Stand down B50. M01 will engage the target."

"Understood."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Ulquiorra barely had to wait five minutes before he felt someone approach, seemingly appearing from thin air. He was small, too humanoid to be an adjunchas, yet too weak to be a vasto lorde. He had insect-like wings upon his back and a complete mask with a long pointy nose like that of a mosquito. He didn't attempt to fight Ulquiorra, instead he spoke.

"Ulquiorra Cifer, our Queen is expecting you. If you would please follow me..." Rock and sand shifted aside to reveal a hidden opening in the ground. For a moment Ulquiorra did nothing, every instinct telling him to leave now and find another way to save Grimmjow.

But of course no such way existed. He cautiously followed the mosquito hollow into the underground passage, knowing by doing so, he could very well never see the surface again.

The earth corridor was lit to Ulquiorra's surprise, not by the sort of artificial lighting that Aizen once employed, but rather by purple, pulsating orbs attached to a disgusting webbing of vines. As they began to walk, Ulquiorra noticed the floor covered in a clear, jelly-like substance that caught on the bottoms of his boots. The smell was another thing. A sickly sweet fragrance hung in the air like that of ripe fruit and it was complimented by that of rotting flesh. Never had Ulquiorra had the _pleasure_ of inhaling Szayel so potently. He shivered, though he was indeed in the right place.

They continued on and the tunnel grew wider and brighter, branching off into several other directions and making Ulquiorra realize that this place was simply enormous, running for miles and miles underground and rivaling the expanse of Las Noches. Occasionally they would pass Szayel's minions at work, most were digging and hauling rock, but others marched by in large platoons, organized for nothing but battle. They didn't bumble about their tasks, but rather moved with purpose.

"What...is this place?" Ulquiorra finally had to ask. It was worrisome that something like this, so big and organized, existed and Ulquiorra had never known. Is this what the former eighth espada had been up to all these years? How had this place, this underground fortress complete with it's own army been developing right under his nose?

"This is our Colony," his guide answered him, not pausing for a moment in his stride. They traveled on, going deeper and deeper underground. Sometimes the tunnel would open up into a cavern and Ulquiorra would catch a glimpse of other hollow, engaged in some activity, usually eating or sleeping. They would stop whatever they were doing to stare at him through their masks. They could feel he was an outsider. There was something about this place that made Ulquiorra's skin crawl. It was as if everything was connected, even all of the hollow. Like they were all one big living thing.

And when Ulquiorra was finally face to face with Szayel, he saw the disturbing reason why.

"I've brought the intruder, my Queen."

Szayel didn't even acknowledge his lackey. His eyes were on Ulquiorra and a sinister smile played on his features. They sized each other up. Szayel was seated on a throne of thorns. Ugly flowers decorated his hair and his face featured the same markings as when he would release his zanpakuto, but the current state he was in was neither human or _resurreccion_. Szayel was rooted to the ground...literally. Long vines extended from his body and crawled up the walls and crept across the ceiling and floors, and hanging from them were the purple, pulsating fruits giving light to the labyrinth. Szayel had extended himself to every inch of his 'colony'.

No. Szayel _was_ this colony. And from what Ulquiorra knew he was looking at hanging off the walls behind Szayel, he suddenly had a feeling that the place's inhabitants weren't just any hollow either.

"Welcome, Ulquiorra, to my humble abode. I must admit I am rather shocked to see you still alive," the man began in a honeyed voice.

"Likewise," Ulquiorra responded shortly, and the two of them silently regarded one another for a moment.

"What do you think of my Colony?" Szayel asked smoothly, "I've had decades to cultivate it, and more space than I know what to do with. It is magnificent, isn't it? So very..." he paused and looked at Ulquiorra suggestively, "...full of life." his eyes gleamed. "In fact, I like to call this room the nursery."

Ulquiorra didn't allow his gaze to drift to the eggs, embryos, or whatever monstrosity happened to be growing all around him. Instead he attempted to change the subject.

"Where is Nnoitora? I can smell him, but he is clearly not here," Ulquiorra said.

"He fulfilled his purpose," Szayel replied with a short chuckle, "Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

"Then why Queen Szayel? Why not King?" Ulquiorra wondered aloud. He honestly didn't care about Nnoitora, but surely Szayel would want to give himself the highest possible title.

"And here I thought you would understand," Szayel sighed, "I'll pardon your ignorance. In this world, dear Ulquiorra, a "King" has a short, sad existence. His duty his to mate, and then to immediately die. A "Queen" however, has so much potential. Once mated, she has the power to create _this_," he held out his arms, indicating his colony, "to mother an entire civilization."

"You..." Ulquiorra began slowly, "As a mother?" he allowed his voice to sound credulous.

"I believe that I have always been more suited to it than you, at the very least," Szayel replied smartly. Anger flared through Ulquiorra's veins, though he wasn't quite sure why he felt so insulted by Szayel's words. The ability to reproduce was common to all living things, one could not possibly be 'better' or 'worse' at it could they? Szayel continued, "Fortunately, it's not quite what you think. They are not children in the traditional sense because they have all been genetically engineered and crafted to perfection. Most of them are clones and very few are true offspring. They have been physically altered to perform a specific function and all have had their minds tampered with so that they are little more than mindless slaves. It is much easier to stay a cohesive unit when the individuals are given no free will, isn't that right, M01?"

"Yes, my Queen," the other hollow in the room answered quickly.

Ulquiorra once again found himself sickened by the inner working's of this madman's mind, but really it was no business of his what Szayel chose to do so long as he stayed in his own yard. Ulquiorra had come here for a reason and already he was wasting precious time with this meaningless banter.

"You have knowledge of poisons," Ulquiorra said. It wasn't a question. It was if he was reminding the eighth espada of his aptitude. Szayel quirked a brow at this statement, his eyes motioning Ulquiorra to continue. "You know how to cure them."

"Poisons...venoms...toxins," conceded the man, "are things that I am far better at synthesizing than neutralizing." his lips curled into an evil smile, "Why do you ask? Could it be that something has happened to poor, old Grimmjow? Am I to take it that you are still mated to that filth?"

"I am," Ulquiorra answered, again feeling irritated. Why did he feel anger when Szayel insulted Grimmjow when he himself did it so often? Grimmjow may be filth, but he was _his _filth. "Grimmjow has been poisoned. I need you to heal him." Szayel laughed outright.

"You believe you can waltz in here and order me around like the old days, Ulquiorra? Who do you think you are? This is my realm and you are playing my game now." He extended his hand, spreading his long, spidery fingers and touching his nail to the vine on the wall behind him. An electric shock surged through the room at his contact, spreading along the vines and out into every direction. It was some sort of link that allowed him to communicate with the rest of the fortress, much like the brain sending signals to its limbs.

"Bring him in," Szayel said.

A moment later the earth doors slid open and two of Szayel's soldiers dragged in a severely beaten body. Ulquiorra's eyes widened when he recognized his son's bright blue mop of hair. The soldiers set the boy on the ground and excused themselves from the room. Szayel stood from his throne, breaking his physical bonds, and the light in the room dimmed considerably in response. Sol regained consciousness and struggled to his knees, but stopped moving when Szayel approached him.

"So this is your little bastard...the prophesied "prince" of the Hueco Mundo." He cupped the boy's chin, forcing him to make eye contact. "How disappointing. I was expecting more." Sol's eyes, wide and uncertain but not quite frightened, sought out Ulquiorra's. His wordless apology was not accepted.

"Foolish child," Ulquiorra hissed, "Did I not warn you?" It was hard to focus on his anger when he couldn't tear his eyes off where Szayel's fingers were touching his son. Alarms were going off in his mind, but he was forced to ignore them. Instead he did something he thought he would never again in his life do. He got down on his knees.

"My son and I are at your mercy, Octava," the words tasted bitter in his mouth, "I beg you to cure Grimmjow. No one else can do it. What may I say to you so that you will decide to help us? Anything. I will do anything."

"Ah, Ulquiorra. I have waited my whole life to see you like this: on your knees before me, humiliated beyond repair. The boy is a nice addition. Even better to have your spawn witness your shame." "Unfortunately, I do not work for free. You cannot beg me, Ulquiorra, you'll have to bargain me."

"I possess nothing of value. What of mine could you possibly want?" Ulquiorra knew. He knew even before he finished the sentence as he continued to watch Szayel's eyes rake over the body of his child.

"How about your son?" Szayel suggested, "It's only fair. A life in exchange for a life."

Ulquiorra opened his mouth to flat out refuse but he was forced to stop himself. Sol or Grimmjow? Which one was more important? In the past, he wouldn't have thought twice. The answer was of course his son. Now, however...Sol was not exactly a boy anymore...

"Done!" said Sol suddenly, "Save him and you can have me." Ulquiorra blinked in surprise. Szayel did as well. What was that stupid child thinking? Had Ulquiorra taught him nothing? He'd been scolded, over and over, for putting the needs of others before his own. To do so in the Hueco Mundo was fatal. Self- preservation was all that mattered.

"Be silent, Sol," Ulquiorra snapped, and then to Szayel, "I can make you an even better deal, Octava. But I have a single condition."

"Oh really?" the former scientist asked, his fingers now combing through Sol's blue hair, "And what would that be?"

"Take my son from the room and we can work out the details privately," Ulquiorra replied. Szayel let out a quiet chuckle, not taking his eyes off of the young arrancar.

"Do you hear that, boy?" he said softly, leaning down to whisper it into his ear, but still speaking loud enough for Ulquiorra to hear, "Your mother doesn't want you to know how truly despicable he is. He's going to sell you to me, you understand? You are nothing but an object to him." Sol cringed when Szayel's tongue slid up the side of his face. After that, the man stood. "Very well, Ulquiorra. I will hear your terms."

Sol was dragged from the room in the same fashion as he had entered. He caught a glimpse of Ulquiorra's stoney expression before the earthen doors slid shut between them.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The minutes seemed to stretch into hours, though in actuality, Sol had no idea of the passage of time in this dark place where even the moon didn't shine. The masked soldiers paid him no heed save for holding his restraints. It had been a mistake to come here. He'd thought he'd be of use...that he'd be able to help Ulquiorra. Instead he'd only gotten them in more trouble.

Just when he had resigned himself to the fact that Ulquiorra was probably long gone, and that he was to remain a prisoner here forever, the doors opened and the mosquito-like hollow that had been in the room with them appeared.

"Release him," he told the others and Sol was cut from his bindings. "I am M01," he told Sol, "I have been charged with the task of administering aid to your wounded kin. I am more than qualified. We will leave the Colony and you lead the way there."

Sol swallowed and nodded because that was all he was able to do in the moment. He followed the man back through the winding maze and out into the night air.

"Where is...?" he couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

"Our Queen is gracious to let you leave here alive. Be thankful and ask me no more questions." After that it was a silent journey all the way home.

Back in the cave, Ashido stood guard over Grimmjow. He eyed the new hollow suspiciously when they entered but took his leave at Sol's reassurance that he was here to save Grimmjow's life. The mosquito hollow went to work with a series of strange instruments that Sol had never seen the likes of before. It didn't take long at all for him to finish and leave without a word. Several hours later, when Grimmjow finally began to stir, Sol was the only one remaining in the cave with him.

"Ah...I feel like shit..." Grimmjow groaned.

"Grim." Sol couldn't help the childish nickname from leaving his mouth at the sound of his father's voice, "You're alive."

"Mmm just when I'd made peace too. Ah well, what can ya do?" Sol helped him into a sitting position and received a ruffle to his hair in response. "You're a good kid," he said and Sol's fuzzy ears dropped flat against his head and he turned away in disagreement. He didn't want his father to see the tears stinging his eyes. Grimmjow looked around the cave. "Where the hell is Ulquiorra? Not even in my grave and he's abandoned us already?"

"He's..." Sol began, but he bit off the rest of his sentence, guilt overwhelming him. He honestly didn't know what had become of Ulquiorra, only that it was his fault that all three of them were not together in this moment. He had failed his promise to Grimmjow. He had not protected Ulquiorra.

"He is right here," came a voice. Father and son looked up to see the missing member of their trio standing in the entrance way. "You accuse me of being unfaithful, Grimmjow, even when you so frequently court death? It's a wonder I came back at all."

"What can I say? I'm quite the catch," Grimmjow managed to laugh. Sol had the rare opportunity of seeing Ulquiorra blush.

"...Indeed."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: Hmm Szayel and Nnoitora. What do you get when you cross a weird tree thing and a mantis? Something gross right? That was the challenge for this chapter but I think I managed well enough. Also, "queen" just works for Szayel, doesn't it?


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: This chapter gave me the hardest time. Writing about feelings is definitely not my forte, but no matter how many times I considered scrapping this chapter, I realize that it is necessary for things later on.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Ulquiorra..." began Sol in a voice of disbelief, "I..thought..." It was if he hadn't expected him to return at all. Grimmjow looked between his mate and child, attempting to decipher this strange tension.

"Leave us," Ulquiorra commanded his son. Sol bowed his head and left obediently. Grimmjow knew this happened often, and didn't necessarily mean that Ulquiorra was angry with his child, only that he wanted very much to be alone with Grimmjow.

"Needed me all to yourself?" the former sixth teased, putting his son from his mind. Ulquiorra watched the boy go and then turned his eyes to his mate, but didn't respond. He went and sat down against the wall next to the larger arrancar. The silence stretched. Ulquiorra picked a few stones off the floor and rolled them between his fingers absently. He must have wanted to say something, but wasn't quite sure how to put it. He continued to sit there with a solemn atmosphere surrounding him. Then, after several minutes:

"Grimmjow, if you were forced to chose between your son and myself, who would it be?"

Any semblance of happiness Grimmjow had in that moment vanished with those words. He'd been pleased that the other man had cared enough to save his life, but now it was obvious that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"What did that bastard Szayel do to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not a fucking tard, Ulquiorra. I don't see how else I could be alive," Grimmjow retorted harshly. He wasn't in the mood for bullshit. Ulquiorra's body stiffened.

"Szayel and I reached an agreement," he said darkly, turning his head away so that Grimmjow could not see his facial expression, "There was a price to pay for bringing you back from the brink of hell, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but Ulquiorra didn't elaborate further. Grimmjow knew, however, what sort of things the eighth espada desired. He dragged his mate to him with a low growl. Ulquiorra remained silent and didn't attempt to fight Grimmjow when he began a rough inspection of his body. He simply went limp in his mate's arms. Grimmjow studied Ulquiorra thoroughly, tilting his chin back to check his neck, and brushing his hair from his face. He removed all clothing in order to examine his arms, legs, and back for any marks upon his skin that may suggest he'd been violated. When the fourth espada was completely bare and forced into a rather humiliating position on his hands and knees, Grimmjow was forced to the conclusion that he'd not been harmed. His skin was flawless. Ulquiorra stared back at him defiantly through the corner of his eye, and Grimmjow begrudgingly accepted that the man before him possessed such good regenerative abilities that he was foolish for looking in the first place. What got to him was the smell. Ulquiorra could not hide Szayel's essence from his body.

Something else suddenly occurred to Grimmjow. _He couldn't have...could he? _Hands encircled Ulquiorra's waist and pressed lightly into his belly. Ulquiorra arched slightly at the touch, goose bumps breaking out over his skin, and Grimmjow was able to feel the small life within, still there, still growing.

His mate's body was becoming heated under his caress. Ulquiorra finally decided to move, breaking free of Grimmjow's embrace and going back to his position against the wall. His arms rested over the minute curve of his belly. Anger was quick to come upon Grimmjow. He couldn't stand to see the defeat-the acceptance of his fate- so clearly in Ulquiorra's eyes

"You are gonna tell me _everything_ that's happened, Ulquiorra. I want the full story," Grimmjow demanded of him. Secrets. Enough of these secrets.

"There is no reason to burden you with the knowledge," Ulquiorra replied, his eyebrows drawn together in concern, or perhaps despair.

"Tell me," Grimmjow warned, taking hold of Ulquiorra's arm once more.

"We are all here. We are all alive. Is that not enough?"

"What did you do? Goddammit, Ulquiorra! Tell me what you've done!" Grimmjow's voice was becoming desperate. He feared the worst now.

"I certainly didn't allow Sol to give up his life for yours as he so recklessly proposed," Ulquiorra refused to look him in the eye, "But...I thought you were going to die, Grimmjow," he whispered as if it were new information, "I...did what I had to," he sounded shocked, as if he couldn't quite accept that Grimmjow's life mattered so much to him. Grimmjow did not want to hear another word out of his mouth at this point. He forced his mate onto his back and straddled his petite body.

"You should have let me die."

"You saved my life in the past. I had to repay the favor," Ulquiorra replied. It was if their love did not exist. That they had gotten nowhere and that they were still two espada with a job to do. He suddenly wanted to hurt this man. Whatever had happened, it shouldn't have. Grimmjow wished half-heartedly that he'd never woken up. This reality was hardly an improvement.

"You are mine, Ulquiorra. I will never give you up," Grimmjow said fiercely, leaning down so that their breath was hot on each other's faces. The hurt was evident in his voice. Ulquiorra grit his teeth, as if the words were painful to his ears. Grimmjow wasted no time now that he'd finally said it. His hands slid into Ulquiorra's dark hair and he leaned down to kiss the smaller arrancar deeply. He didn't want to fight. He knew Ulquiorra didn't want to fight. They each just wanted to hold what they'd almost lost.

Ulquiorra's body was quite easy to coerce into an aroused state. Grimmjow trailed harsh kisses down his neck and chest, leaving swollen, red marks in his wake. His hands were rough as they explored his mate's bare chest and peeled his protective hands away from his abdomen.

"You aren't...well enough for this," Ulquiorra said, panting slightly as he fought against the grip imprisoning him. Grimmjow heard his breath hitch when he forced their groins together, grinding against the heat that was Ulquiorra.

"I don't care," Grimmjow said in between his angry ministrations, "They say it takes a near-death experience for a man to realize what's really important..."

Ulquiorra opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it again. He stared at the sixth espada with unreadable eyes. His face was flushed and he looked a wanton mess. Grimmjow purred his wordless approval, hands sliding down Ulquiorra's thighs. Ulquiorra writhed under his touch and Grimmjow couldn't quite figure out if the man was enjoying these attentions or not. It didn't matter, however. Grimmjow was going to take him and he wasn't about to be denied. Two of his fingers forced their way into the warm entrance. Ulquiorra's mouth opened in a silent cry. He twisted in discomfort, but Grimmjow held him still. He had such a glorious body, small and tight and now once again carrying his child.

"That's right, keep quiet. Wouldn't want Sol to hear this," Grimmjow said. He captured Ulquiorra lips again but drew back when he felt the other's teeth cut into his tongue. He had the urge to punch his mate after that, but managed to restrain himself. He held out his arm instead, offering something else for Ulquiorra to bite. After a moment of contemplation, Ulquiorra took the offered skin into his mouth and readied himself for the inevitable intrusion. In one fluid motion, Grimmjow slid into the body beneath him. Ulquiorra shuddered and his teeth drew blood from Grimmjow's flesh, but still their eyes remained locked as Grimmjow began the thrusting motions of sex. His mate bit back a cry and braced himself for the coming onslaught.

It was hot and even Ulquiorra could not deny his arousal. Uneven breathing issued from his mouth accompanied by the occasional pained moan. Grimmjow gripped his thighs in a bruising hold, worried that if he wasn't touching the man under him, that he might just disappear forever. Ironic as it was, no one had ever shown him as much kindness as Ulquiorra. No one had ever given him so much to fight for, to protect. No, he would never sincerely admit to it, but he loved this stoic arrancar.

Ulquiorra arched beneath him, reluctantly pleased with the new position of Grimmjow's cock, and Grimmjow grunted in response, cupping the smooth muscle of Ulquiorra's buttocks. He sheathed himself so that he was pressed flush against Ulquiorra's quivering flesh and the other responded by spreading himself and shifting to heighten the sensation of Grimmjow penetrating him to his inner core. Their bodies were aching with exertion and arousal but Grimmjow would make sure his mate wouldn't see release until he allowed it. His hand snaked between them and Ulquiorra gasped and shuddered at the contact. The cuatro espada had too much pride to admit that it hurt...or that it was bliss.

They continued on and on until Grimmjow was sure Ulquiorra was sore and bloody and sufficiently reminded of who he was bonded to. His mate's faced was wet with perspiration, but his eyes only shone with a restrained sadness, not anger. Grimmjow was forced to stare at that face as he thrust deeply and came, depositing into that willing body. He collapsed onto the smaller man, letting his full weight trap him against the ground.

Ulquiorra put up with it for a good while, burying his face in Grimmjow's neck, but eventually his breathing became labored and he began to struggle.

"Grimmjow...I can't..." but the larger man wouldn't budge, "Grimmjow!" A few more ragged breaths and Ulquiorra finally used his reiatsu to throw his mate off. He slammed Grimmjow against the wall and held him with an arm pressing threateningly against his throat.

"You're emotions are understandable, but I'll not tell you again to refrain from unnecessary abuse," the dark haired arrancar hissed. Seeing that his lover still had some fire in him- or at the very least a desire not to allow harm to come to his new cub- mollified Grimmjow somewhat. Perhaps not all hope was lost.

"Why is this world...so fucking cruel?" Grimmjow choked. Ulquiorra released him and fell back onto his knees. His chest was still heaving and Grimmjow wondered if he was still in pain. He cringed slightly when Grimmjow reached to scrub a smear of blood from his face.

"You never answered my question, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra reminded him, "Make your choice: Your mate or your offspring?"

Grimmjow simply let out a derisive snort. He wasn't going to answer that question because there was no answer. It was simply alarming to have such a glaring weakness as attachment. They both knew it was an impossible choice. It was a trick question. When forced to choose between your mate and cub you chose neither. You give up yourself instead. Back when he and Ulquiorra were held captive by the shinigami, Grimmjow had had to make a similar choice...but Ulquiorra still did not know about that.

Grimmjow stood and dressed slowly in his garments.

"You're not to leave this cave unless I give you permission, Ulquiorra. I don't give a damn about your agreement. Szayel can't have you." He picked up his jacket and draped the material gently over his mate's bare shoulders.

"Where are you going?" Ulquiorra asked skeptically.

"Food." Grimmjow answered simply as he placed his katana in his belt, "You're hungry, aren't you? I've gotta make sure you're properly fed." That was not completely true. More than that he was ashamed of what he'd just done and now could not face his mate.

Ulquiorra drew the jacket tighter around himself.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Sol scraped at the wall fiercely. He knew he couldn't possibly get his nails sharper, at this point it was a compulsion. He could smell the heady scents from within the cave and he'd heard everything. He was pretty sure he had figured out what they were doing (ever since he had made some startling discoveries about his own body) but he had never heard it get quite so violent. It was worrisome to hear his mother voice such painful moans when he normally would make no noise at all.

He knew he should have left when he was told, but he was just so curious as to what their private exchanges were like. Perhaps he was selfish. He wanted his parents to love him more than they loved each other. That's the way it had always been. Sol and Ulquiorra vs. Grimmjow. Sol and Grimmjow vs. Ulquiorra. Now, however...things were changing. Now it was starting to feel like Grimmjow and Ulquiorra vs. Sol.

He couldn't be the glue holding them together anymore.

Shuffling footsteps alerted Sol to the fact that his parents' rutting was over. Sol crouched low in the shadows. It was too late to make a run for it. Hopefully Grimmjow would pass him and not notice. It was not to be, however. Sol let out a loud yelp when Grimmjow suddenly grabbed him by the tail, which he had accidentally left in plain sight.

"Hiding your reiatsu does you no good if I can still see you, twerp," Grimmjow whispered to him. Sol found himself being thrown over his father's shoulder and marched several yards away from the cave entrance.

"I didn't hear anything. I swear!" Sol's voice rose to a pleading level. He didn't want to get punished for this. "I was just looking for something!" Even to his own ears it sounded like a lie. "C'mon, just give me a break this time, will ya?" he pouted, finally resigning himself to defeat. Grimmjow didn't respond. He came to a stop and set down his child.

"You know, maintaining a hard-on sucks when you have the feeling your kid might be listening," the elder arrancar said softly. Sol prepared himself for a slap at the very least. He deserved it. Grimmjow replied by ruffling his son's hair in the way that Sol hated so much. The boy let out an annoyed growl as he set his shoulder-length blue locks back in place. He squeaked indignantly when Grimmjow roughly embraced him. He certainly wasn't expecting that.

"I don't deserve the two of you," Grimmjow spoke into Sol's hair, "You're too good for me." Sol wasn't quite sure what he was talking about. Maybe he was touched after hearing that Sol had offered up his life for him. Maybe he was feeling guilty over what he'd just done to Ulquiorra. Grimmjow let go of him before Sol even had time to sort his thoughts.

"I'll be back in a bit. Don't disturb Ulquiorra. Let him rest for a while," Grimmjow told him. Sol blinked a few times before he registered the words.

"...right," he said, but his father was already gone.

He wanted to obey Grimmjow, he really did. But after twenty fruitless minutes of practicing with Luz, Sol could not help but steal glances back at the cave. He wondered if Ulquiorra was alright. Maybe he was bleeding and needed help. Maybe he was crying.

No, that was ridiculous. Ulquiorra didn't cry. It was difficult to tell when he was even upset. He was most likely asleep and if Sol went in there and woke him he would just look at him blankly and tell him to leave again. He was probably still angry at Sol for so stupidly getting himself captured. He wouldn't want to see him right now.

Despite these thoughts Sol found that his feet had taken him to the entrance of their home. He peered hesitantly into the darkened interior. All he could hear was the faint noise of metal grinding against stone. He stepped inside, not bothering to hide his presence. Ulquiorra was over in the corner with his sword across his knees. The grinding sound was coming from him dragging a coarse stone swiftly down the blade over and over.

"It is late. I was wondering when you were going to come inside," Ulquiorra said quietly without looking up. He did not seem angry at all. If anything, he seemed quite relaxed and content. "You should begin collecting your things. We are leaving tomorrow."

"Leaving?" Sol asked, "Why? I like this place."

"It is too small," Ulquiorra answered, "Too unprotected." His gaze traveled upward. Sol's eyes followed his to the ceiling . The cave had little space to move around on the ground, but the ceiling was incredibly high. When they spoke it caused their words to echo slightly. "However, it is a nice place to roost," Ulquiorra added reluctantly. Then he turned toward his son, giving him a curious look. "I have not done it in decades, not since you were very small. You are old enough to do it on your own now." After brief contemplation, he carefully held up his sword and whispered its command. Sol was confused. Did Ulquiorra want to fight? He couldn't even spread his wings in here. What was the point of transforming?

Ulquiorra climbed gracefully up to the cave ceiling and hung himself upside-down among the stalactites. He curled into an awkward position, folding his wings neatly around his body and tucking his head beneath. Sol simply stared at him in silence until green eyes peeked back over his wing.

"Will you not join me? It will be the best sleep you've ever had, I guarantee it," Ulquiorra said. Sol blinked. Sleep? Like that? Was he crazy? "You do know how to release your Zanpakuto, don't you?" Ulquiorra asked. Sol mimicked Ulquiorra, drawing his sword and whispering the word that called out it's true form. It came easier the second time. He was able to rein in the incredible reiatsu and bring it down to a tiny flicker. He put his hand to the wall hesitantly.

Even with his long claws, climbing up the smooth rock was a challenge. There was nothing to hang on to and nothing to stand on. It took him a good few minutes to get all the way to the top, and then he couldn't seem to figure out how Ulquiorra was hanging there so easily. He became quickly frustrated.

The rock beneath his hand crumbled and before he even knew he was falling, Ulquiorra snatched him from mid-air. Sol found himself being tucked safely inside his mother's wings and he flushed crimson in embarrassment. Ulquiorra made a sound that could have been an amused chuckle, but that was near impossible.

"You are trying too hard," his voice spoke into Sol's ear, "Latch your hind claws onto the surface and let the weight of your body hold you in place." Sol didn't get the chance to try it for himself because Ulquiorra refused to let him go. He shifted his son into a better position and let out a small noise of satisfaction. "It is best when you have someone in your arms. Back during the nights when you were so tiny you could do nothing but cry, this was how I could get you to stay quiet."

"I'm too old for this," Sol huffed, "Let me down."

"No," Ulquiorra said simply, "Now, refrain from squirming."

As much as Sol wanted to die in this very moment, he could not deny how right this felt. It was just what he'd been wanting: to cozy up to Ulquiorra and forget about all the things that had happened and all the things that were happening. He rested his head upon the slim chest before him and closed his eyes. Ulquiorra responded by placing his chin on top of his son's head. These moments were so rare now that Sol had begun to lose hope.

"I thought for sure that you had come to hate me." These exact words were ringing in Sol's head, but he was shocked to hear them spoken aloud, not in his own voice, but in Ulquiorra's.

"Me? Hate you?" said Sol in a weak voice. It was meant to be the other way around.

"Yes. I never did consult with you about the possibility of a new litter. Though, I was surprised to find out myself. I...never wanted any more after you, but I believe Grimmjow has other plans."

_Then...maybe he doesn't think so badly of me?_ Sol didn't respond. He still wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to feel. _I'm not going to be kicked out? Or replaced?_

"I thought you were the one who was unhappy with me. I mean, I...disobeyed you after you told me to stay with Grimmjow."

"You were foolish to follow me, but when I think that perhaps you only wanted to save Grimmjow as much as I did, I realize the bravery in your act."

"So then..." began Sol hesitantly, "If you had to chose between me and Grimmjow..." He felt ashamed for asking. Ulquiorra stiffened ever so slightly and gave a long pause before answering. Sol held his breath.

"You were not meant to hear any of that," he finally said, "The objective was for all of us to remain alive and it has been accomplished. Let us forget about what happened with Szayel. The situation has been resolved...for the time being."

They hung there in silence for a while, listening to the wind slowly picking up outside. Sol could feel his own heart beating slightly faster than Ulquiorra's. Occasionally they would match up and beat in harmony. With his face buried in the crook of his mother's neck, he could smell Grimmjow faintly on Ulquiorra's skin.

It dawned suddenly on Sol how much he did not know his parents. He had so many questions. How did they meet? Why did they mate in the first place if they hated each other? How do they know arrancar like Szayel or strange creatures like Ashido? Whispered words would occasionally give way to more secrets. Who was Aizen? What was Las Noches? And why did they want so much to hide it all from him? Ulquiorra never answered Sol's questions and Grimmjow never gave away much either, but perhaps it was time to try again. After all, Ulquiorra seemed to be in a good mood. Sol decided to ask the question that bothered him the most.

"What does my name mean?"

"'Sun'," Ulquiorra answered, "You know that."

"But why am I named for the sun? It's a myth, a fairytale. It doesn't exist."

"It exists," Ulquiorra insisted, "It symbolizes hope, warmth, happiness...all the things forbidden to an arrancar." Sol felt the arms embracing him tighten around him, "Hence...it is something to be treasured above all else."

Sol's eyes widened upon hearing those words. He wanted nothing else but to be treasured by Ulquiorra.

"Grim thinks it is a stupid name."

"Hmm," the larger bat hummed, "I know. It is amusing."

Sol felt light-headed sharing this moment with Ulquiorra. It might never happen again and he did not want to ruin it. He closed his eyes and was lulled to sleep by gentle rise and fall of the warm body he was held against.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Hope you don't mind eating shit, because that's all I could find," Grimmjow said as he ducked into their den. He dragged his kill inside with him dropped it on the ground. He had to look up to find Ulquiorra perched in that strange, upside-down way and staring down at him with his predatory green eyes.

"Where's the kid?" Grimmjow asked, ignoring the strong sense of deja vu plaguing his mind. Last time he'd come upon Ulquiorra like this, he'd come prepared to kill the man. Ulquiorra said nothing. He lifted a sleek, black wing to reveal where he had been keeping Sol clutched to his chest. The hairs stood upon Grimmjow's neck as he even more vividly remembered that night.

Sol tried to play off the fact that he had just woken up, but he could not hide the sleep from his drowsy eyes. It was sorta cute and it had Grimmjow smirking.

"Look at you, getting the royal treatment," Grimmjow snickered, "Did he change your diaper too?" Sol scowled and blushed, mortified at being caught in such a position. He struggled to get down but Ulquiorra held him tightly.

"Pay no attention to him, pup. He is jealous," Ulquiorra said to the boy. He used his wings to obscure them both from Grimmjow's view once again. It was Grimmjow's turn to scowl. So they'd had a little bonding session without him? Whatever. He laid down on his bedding with his arms behind his head and found that he was directly below where the two were hanging.

"Fucking perfect," he grumbled, "Hey kid, do me a favor and keep your mouth shut tonight. We all know how you drool in your sleep." In answer to this, a glob of saliva landed on Grimmjow's face. "Oh you're fucking dead when you get down here."

"But...it wasn't me," the kid said honestly.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	31. Chapter 31

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Dawn: The time where the moon spread it's light above the horizon, weak and pale light that it was, it was all they had to go by. In the Hueco Mundo the moon was life, and this was something Shinigami and earthlings might never be able to comprehend. In their perverse worlds, thieves and rapists rose with the moon. Monsters and horrible faceless cretins were free to roam the earth during the hours of darkness.

Here it was much the same. Thieves, rapists and monsters rose with the moon. The difference, however, was that the dawning of the moon was welcomed. No one could quite be sure what lurked in the Hueco Mundo's darkness; darkness that had no moon. Sol was right in a way, the sun did not exist...not here. Perhaps they would not be so decrepit of creatures otherwise.

Ulquiorra pondered these morbid thinkings as he meandered several paces behind his mate and son. He had no memories of his human life, same as all hollow. Being born into the Hueco Mundo was the result of succumbing to grief, fear, or madness; the mark of a tainted soul. But he had seen much for a mere hollow. Doors had been opened that were meant to be guarded forever. What laid beyond death in the spirit world? Ulquiorra knew hell awaited him. Grimmjow as well. Their hands were dyed red with blood. But what of Sol? The dark haired espada stole a glance to his son, who was busy attempting to rouse Grimmjow into a simple footrace. His life had scarcely begun. Was he, too, tainted by the deeds of his parents and condemned to a life and afterlife of misery?

Grimmjow made an irritated noise and shrugged off his son. They made quite the pair, the kitten and the tomcat. They were remarkably similar in looks. From this distance it was quite clear to Ulquiorra. In perhaps a decade or two, Sol would match Grimmjow in height and he already shared the man's coloring with his fierce blue eyes and wild blue hair. They shared a short temper as well as a love for mischief making. And of course, Sol had been gifted with his father's wickedly handsome grin. Aside from the way Sol kept his hair (long enough to brush his shoulders) and aside from the fact that there was yet a several inch difference in their height. They were nearly the same man.

There was a problem arising with this. Sol had reached adolescence. He knew the heat of his own body and had the proper knowledge installed to know what to do with it. Ulquiorra was slightly wary. Sol was his son and would always be his son, but occasionally he felt Grimmjow in the boy. It made him cautious and it reminded him that Sol was dangerous to be kept around much longer. When they'd held each other the night before, Ulquiorra had reflected on how Sol was becoming a man.

"I'll race you to the rock, Grim. Surely you aren't too old to accept that challenge?" the boy taunted his father.

"So be it. If it will put a brat like you in your place," Grimmjow replied. They raced to the rock a long distance ahead, using their sonido. After a few seconds the victor had probably already been decided, but Ulquiorra hung back, deciding not to stress his body further with such a useless waste of strength.

War waged around them, in other worlds, in other times. Perhaps even in this Hueco Mundo people like Szayel were gathering their forces about them, readying for something big, but Ulquiorra took an unexplained joy in the moment of watching his mate and son frolic through the sand.

Perhaps this was his life's calling? He knew the sword and political intrigue and countless other useful skills, but somehow this...being here with people who desired his company with no hidden motives gave him a feeling of strange peace. It was a shame it would not last.

Ulquiorra met up with them finally. They were still huffing and puffing from their race. Arguing as well.

"I won," Sol said triumphantly. "What say you to that, Grim?"

"I'd say yesterday I was lying in bed poisoned and you took advantage of that," Grimmjow snarled, quite bitter about his loss.

Ulquiorra wasn't shocked to find that Sol was faster than Grimmjow. In time he'd be able to wield a sword better as well. His reiatsu, though raw and untrained was enough to dwarf both Ulquiorra's and Grimmjow's combined. A parent could certainly be proud of this, but could he also feel...threatened?

"Ah, Ulquiorra, what are we to do?" Grimmjow said after Sol had wandered farther ahead and out of earshot. "The cub's nearly grown." In his words were Ulquiorra's same feelings.

"He is," Ulquiorra agreed, almost sadly, "And there is nothing we can do to stop it."

They journeyed on in silence for the next ten or so miles. They were trekking across the endless desert and expected nothing to interrupt the eternal sea of sand shimmering in the moonlight. It hadn't been Ulquiorra's idea to leave their home of twenty year. It had been Grimmjow's. He wanted to put as much distance between him and Szayel as possible, but only Ulquiorra knew this was all in vain. If it would calm his mate's mind, then so be it.

Something loomed in the distance. Something tall and shadowy in a desert of white sand. Very few things could it be and Ulquiorra wondered if they had perhaps been walking too long and had each caught what most hollows described as "moonlight madness".

"Ulquiorra, Grim," Sol called ahead of them, "It is an oasis."

The parents climbed the dune and stood atop its sandy peak to look upon the find. True enough, Ulquiorra saw the gleaming stretch of water shaded by many a green tree. It was an unfamiliar sight to see such life in such a barren place.

"Hmm..." began Grimmjow, "I dun remember this being here before."

"The trees are young, and a series of storms in the recent years must have caused water to gather in this spot. It hasn't been here long," Ulquiorra answered. It seemed as though a lot more water was falling from the sky lately. Changes were taking place in their desert and Ulquiorra wasn't sure if he liked it.

However, trees seemed a nice alternative to rock. And water preferable to sand. Of course, this oasis was still far from their intended destination, but Ulquiorra found himself longing to submerge himself in that small lake, lie beneath the shady trees, and upon a bed of coarse grass. Lately he was so very tired. It hadn't been all that long but already he felt full and burdened with child.

"Grimmjow," Ulquiorra spoke suddenly to his mate, his voice taking on the commanding tone of the fourth espada, "I want this place."

"Heh, I was just thinkin' the same thing, but in case you haven't noticed, there are already hollow who have claimed this little piece of paradise."

"I do not care," responded the smaller man, and Grimmjow laughed.

"You will fight?" Sol asked, his face lighting up considerably as he turned back toward them. Excitement danced in his eyes. He loved seeing his parents in action, always wanting to see what they were truly capable of, but there was scarcely a fight where either of them would need to draw their swords. Fighting and killing...it was what an arrancar was born to do and there was something about it that made their bodies tingle.

"Nope," answered Grimmjow, giving his son a shove forward. "You will. Go on, whelp. Show us what you can do."

The pout on Sol's face said that he was clearly disappointed but at the same time honored. He drew Luz from its sheath and glanced quickly to Ulquiorra, even though it was Grimmjow who had spoken.

"I won't let you down, then," Sol decided. He took three large cat-like leaps down the dune and crept into enemy territory. Ulquiorra couldn't help but fear slightly for his son. Sure, he had the power, but he was yet untrained and rash as his father.

"Arrancar 33 and 34. You were well acquainted with the two of them we're you?" Ulquiorra said quietly after analyzing the reiatsu.

"That I am! I expect they won't be happy to see us."

"I seem to remember you tearing off the one arrancar's leg and burning off the other's face. Was there a reason for that or was it simply for fun?"

"Ah, Ulquiorra you wound me. Those were they days of our courtship," Grimmjow sniggered, unashamed, "Terrorizing your woman, and terrorizing the stupid cunts terrorizing your woman was all just a ploy to get you to cross blades with me."

"She wasn't my woman," Ulquiorra denied, "And you were less than trash at the time, disgraced and without a number,"

"But you did cross blades with me in the end," Grimmjow returned, a sly smile blooming on his face. Ulquiorra had to admit to Grimmjow's charms. He wasn't one to be romanced, but the words melted his cold heart slightly.

"If you wish to cross blades with me, you need only ask," Ulquiorra said, feeling the double meaning in his words and the throb of arousal that came with them. Grimmjow purred his response and gave Ulquiorra a look that said he wanted to cross blades at this very moment. They stared at each other, and Ulquiorra let his eyes wander over Grimmjow's hard, muscular body, reminding himself that this man was _his _mate.

"I want more than that these days, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow sighed, turning away suddenly. Ulquiorra only gave him a puzzled look. "We ain't espada anymore. We ain't even hollow or arrancar."

"Of course we are arrancar."

"Arrancar swing their swords for Aizen. Other hollow swing their swords for themselves. I swing my sword for you. What does that make me?" Grimmjow asked. Ulquiorra had no answer for that. The former sexta continued, "We've become alien creatures in this world. You would die for me...I would die for you...that's unheard of. It's against the laws of the Hueco Mundo."

Ulquiorra dropped his gaze in silent agreement.

"I'm rambling like some damn old man. Stop me next time, would ya?" Grimmjow grumbled, but his blue eyes remained serious, "Let's go help the kid before he fucks everything up."

Ulquiorra followed silently, but his mind lingered on Grimmjow's words. The man wanted to be closer. He wanted them...to share secrets as well as a bed.

A loud explosion had caught their attention and Sol was forced out of the small grove of trees. He seemed to have just shielded himself from a rather powerful cero and was taking a moment to recover. Arrancar 34, Menoly, (if Ulquiorra remembered correctly) stalked out after him, furious with her reiatsu flaring and her zanpakuto drawn.

"Grimmjow Jeagerjaques!" she called to Sol, "I vowed to kill you if I ever saw you again. Not only were you a disgrace to the espada and Aizen, but you are a traitor as well. I've waited since the day Las Noches fell to skewer you with my sword. Today I shall have my vengeance!"

"Oi, you're talking to the wrong man," Grimmjow interrupted, stepping out of the shadows so that he was visible. Menoly's eyes darted between Sol and Grimmjow, perhaps wondering if it were an illusion or if she were insane. After a moment, her eyes picked out the subtle differences and she came upon the truth.

"This is your cub!" she spat, "Come then, I will face both of you. Even if it means my death!" Sol and Grimmjow moved in on her.

Ulquiorra knew little of the woman, only that she had quite a bit more honor that a hollow ought to have. Grimmjow of course had no love for her and would be glad of the chance to butcher something so powerful. She fought gallantly but was no match for Grimmjow and Sol. Ulquiorra carefully watched his son. His heart was not in this fight.

"Hold her down boy," Grimmjow told his son when they finally had her defeated, "Till we best decide how to eat her."

While the two of them were preoccupied, the moment Ulquiorra had been waiting for finally happened. He could feel the other arrancar- Loly was it?- biding her time in the den. She chose this moment to appear, going for Grimmjow's throat with her sword, her eyes wild with rage. Ulquiorra coolly and calmly intercepted her.

"You should have stayed hidden," he told her quietly. Grimmjow's attention was attracted all the same. He looked over once he heard the ring of their steel.

"_There_ you are," Grimmjow purred, "I was wondering when you would be coming out of your hidey-hole to save your bitch." He grabbed her from Ulquiorra and forced her onto the ground along with her mate. The two women looked to Ulquiorra pleadingly but he would not be coming to their rescue this time. Last they'd met, he and Grimmjow had been enemies, but now he would not be protecting the two of them from his mate.

"You're with him," Menoly accused Ulquiorra. Blood was dripping from her blonde hairline into her eyes, "You took the traitor for a mate and bore him his bastard."

"Enough from your mouth!" Grimmjow growled, "Silence her, kid." Ulquiorra saw Sol hesitate. Grimmjow's brutality toward others was not so foreign to him, but his desire to know more about his parents was strong. Menoly had known them, and it wasn't every day that they came across arrancar who knew the former lives of Ulquiorra Cifer and Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. What sort of things must he be wondering about?

Ulquiorra could feel the boy's conflict, but he absolutely did not wish Sol to learn the details of his and Grimmjow's sins, no matter how obvious they already were. Before Sol could act, Ulquiorra stepped forward and used Murcielago to slice Menoly's head clean from her shoulders. It was necessary, he told himself. Better for her to spill her blood than her information.

_You cannot obscure the truth forever...he will learn eventually..._

"MENOLY!" Loly cried, twisting uselessly in Grimmjow's iron grip. She looked ferociously from Ulquiorra to Grimmjow to Sol, "YOU'RE SCUM, THE LOT OF YOU. WHEN AIZEN RETURNS TO THE THRONE, YOU'LL BE SORRY!" she screeched. "He will rise again just as the prophesy says and punish all his traitors, feed them to the menos and let them rot in hell for all eternity."

"Is that so?" Grimmjow laughed, lifting the woman by her long, black pigtail, "I can't wait. Hell sounds like a fine vacation. Why don't you go there now, and warn them about me." he turned toward Ulquiorra, "What should I tear off first, Ulquiorra? You pick."

"I refuse to be involved in this. Do away with her quickly," Ulquiorra replied. The prospect of her long, agonizing death only served to sicken him slightly. He was beginning to recall the old Grimmjow...sadistic and merciless...and found that he would rather not watch.

"FUCKING COWARD," the crazed woman screamed at Ulquiorra, "YOU'RE JUST AS BAD AS HIM. HE BETRAYED US ALL AND YOU DID NOTHING. NOTHING! AIZEN TRUSTED YOU MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE!"

"The tongue, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra decided. He did not want Sol to hear anymore. _He_ did not want to hear anymore. He turned from the scene just as Grimmjow was forcing her mouth open. He went to explore his new home, leaving his mate and son to the killing. He went to the oasis water and found it was clear enough to see the bottom, not murky as he expected. The trees were lush and seemed out of place in this dry land. They were young, but they looked more than sturdy enough to hold his weight if he were to decide to hang from them. He reached the cave that had been carved out of rock where the two female arrancar most likely slept during the darkness. A door had been made to cover the opening and the entire place seemed closed tight to the wind and sand. A lot of care had been put into this den, more effort than he and Grimmjow had ever thought to put into any of their homes.

He went inside and immediately picked up a strange scent. It came from the corner, inside the heavily fluffed bedding that had been heaped there in a hurry. Ulquiorra went over to it cautiously. He'd already had a feeling of what was inside.

Sure enough, he pulled back the furs to find several live pups. They were tiny and sleeping, perhaps no older than a few months. Five there were, all with a head of black hair, and like his own son, had completely mask-less faces.

He and Grimmjow were an oddity, Ulquiorra reminded himself. Arrancar did not have children with one another. Their beastly natures ensured that they would sooner tear each other apart before producing offspring. Even Sol had been a decision my by Aizen and would not have been born if it had not been ordered.

So what were these things here? And Szayel and Nnoitora...that had come to pass, had it not? And of course why was he, himself, carrying Grimmjow's child again?

He would kill these pups. Their parents were dead. They would not survive. They would make a fine meal anyway. He grabbed one, the runt, lifted her with one hand and held Murcielago's blade to her with the other. She woke immediately and began squalling loudly.

"Whacha find, Ulquiorra?" came Grimmjow's voice as he ducked into the shelter with Sol following close behind. Blood was splattered over their white clothing. He came up behind his mate, eyes looking from the crying babe in Ulquiorra's hand to the nest where the rest of them were now stirring restlessly. His eyes hardened and for a moment, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. The child continued to cry.

"Go on then, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow said gruffly. Again, Ulquiorra lifted his sword and again he hesitated. What was wrong with him? Why did this feel so horrible?

"Don't do it," Sol said quietly, "They are only babies."

"Oh yeah?" said Grimmjow, sarcastically surprised as he rounded on his son, "And did I just imagine you out there helping me to kill their parents? Shut your mouth, Sol, and get it over with Ulquiorra. They're gonna die anyway."

The atmosphere was tense. It was clear that none of them wanted to kill the pups, but Ulquiorra was the one standing there with the sword, Grimmjow was the one standing to his right telling him what was reasonable, and Sol was the one standing to his left saying what they were all thinking.

"Grimmjow is right, Sol. It has to be done," Ulquiorra said. The boy's lip curled into a snarl and anger set into his expression.

"Would you kill me? If I were lying there all tiny and helpless would you put your blade to _my_ neck?" the young arrancar challenged.

"Kid," Grimmjow replied impatiently, "You seem to have forgotten what you are! What _we_ are! Of course we thought of killing you. Kids are a hassle. Many many times killing you crossed my mind. Ulquiorra's as well. You could have been the death of us."

Grimmjow's words were harsh, but true. Ulquiorra could not deny them. He _had _once considered killing his son, during that time when he constantly felt ill and vulnerable, trapped in Las Noches with his enemies. But that was before Sol had even been born, barely after he'd been conceived and before Ulquiorra's instincts had been there to tell him otherwise.

Sol was crushed. His eyes filled with deep hurt as he stared at his parents who suddenly didn't seem quite so loving. Ulquiorra had the urge to tell his son that there was a difference between your own offspring and someone else's, but he likely wouldn't understand. His thoughts...were too human. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra still had masks. Sol did not.

"If you don't want to watch you can leave," Ulquiorra told his son. With one last betrayed snarl, Sol turned and headed out.

"It's his own fault, thinking like that," Grimmjow dismissed with a grunt. His attention went back to Ulquiorra, who still had not killed the child. "Well?" Ulquiorra did not move, only staring down at the little pup. Sol was once like this, but Ulquiorra would never have Murcielago pressed to his flesh like this. Ulquiorra then began to wonder...if he and Grimmjow were to die at the hands of some other hollow, would that hollow kill _his_ offspring just as he and Grimmjow were about to kill Loly and Menoly's?

When he next looked up, Grimmjow was studying his face. The sixth espada sighed heavily and gently took the little pup from his mate's grasp. Ulquiorra lowered his sword, shame spreading like liquid fire through his veins.

"I...don't know what's come over me," Ulquiorra said in his monotone voice. For him, killing used to be emotionless. Why couldn't he bring himself to do it?

"Nothing's come over you," Grimmjow growled. He placed his free hand softly on his mate's shoulder and forced him to turn his back to the bed of wailing infants, "I forgot that you get like this when you're pregnant." his hand left his shoulder. "Now just...stay like that for a second." Ulquiorra obeyed, his eyes fixating on a crack in the wall as he listened to Grimmjow drawing Pantera.

One by one, the five tiny voices were silenced.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

There was dead plant life lying around to feed a fire. Grimmjow watched Ulquiorra gather dried brush into a pile while he sat there and cleaned the blood off of his sword. Sol had gone off somewhere, as he always did when he was angry or needed to sort out his feelings. He and Ulquiorra let the boy do as he pleased. He would come back when he was ready.

When there was enough material, Ulquiorra lit it and made sure it burned bright and healthy to last a long while. They usually did not have the resources for a fire, and Grimmjow found that Ulquiorra's features looked long and worn under the orange glow. The smaller arrancar seated himself on the other side of the fire, across from Grimmjow as if they were strangers or something. His face was blank, as usual. One hand was on the hilt of his sword and the other was placed over his abdomen.

"Doesn't it bother you," Ulquiorra began, "being known as a traitor. What will Sol think when he discovers the truth?"

"The truth?" snorted Grimmjow, and then he remembered that not even Ulquiorra knew the truth, "They made me watch while they tortured you, did you know that? Those shinigami." Grimmjow watched his mate carefully for a reaction. "They were going to kill you, so I sold myself to them and gave them all of my knowledge of Las Noches. The truth is that I saved Sol's life by becoming a traitor. He can hate me, you can hate me, but neither of you will make me regret it."

Ulquiorra only stared at him.

"You swore yourself to Aizen," he said brusquely, "You should have fought and died for him."

"We all swore ourselves to Aizen, Ulquiorra!" Grimmjow laughed exasperated, "But do you want to know how many of his _loyal_ espada stuck around to die for him when the shinigami invaded?" Again, that blank stare. As if he didn't even care to know. Grimmjow put up a hand, his thumb and index finger linked to form an 'o'. "Zero, Ulquiorra. They all turned tail and ran as soon as Aizen fell to Kurosaki and they realized the battle was lost. That's a hollow for you, through and through. But I...your life meant more to me than some words I said to some turncoat shinigami."

For a long while there was no sounds but the fire crackling. Ulquiorra's eyes followed the swirling flames.

"I suppose we are not so different then," the smaller arrancar replied. Green irises returned to Grimmjow. "I'm not sure this child is a good idea."

"Nothing we ever do is a good idea," Grimmjow replied evenly.

"I don't want to go though with it, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said, "It is as you said, a child is a burden."

"That didn't stop you before. Even when the whole world was pretty much against you," Grimmjow responded, not buying the excuse. There was something bothering else bothering his mate. Ulquiorra went quiet, turning his face away from the firelight.

"There...are some things I need to tell you," Ulquiorra admitted reluctantly.

"Talk then. I've only been waiting decades to hear you speak," Grimmjow replied.

"Our time together is short," Ulquiorra began, "Szayel is unaware of...my state. I asked for a few weeks with you, to see that you returned to full health -Szayel's end of the bargain- but then I am his to do with as he wishes...for as long as he wishes. If I do not go to him, he will come for me."

Grimmjow immediately opened his mouth to protest. Ulquiorra was the fourth espada! Szayel was the eighth. And with Grimmjow's help they could certainly overpower the man. Had Ulquiorra forgotten who they were? The other man seemed to have anticipated his reaction. He held up a hand to silence Grimmjow before he was even able to speak.

"You did not see it, Grimmjow...the army that he's built. He cannot be so easily defeated. And also," here Ulquiorra let out the smallest of shudders, "you know his powers...So again, Grimmjow, I'm not sure this child is a good idea. Szayel will surely kill him if I allow him to be born and if he doesn't...perhaps an even sorrier fate awaits him."

Just when he thought things were going well, shit like this had to happen. Grimmjow finally knew the exact conditions of the agreement...and they were grim.

"I'm gonna get you out of this mess, Ulquiorra," Grimmjow promised.

"I put myself in this mess to get you out of your mess," Ulquiorra reminded him, "No. I will deal with this myself, Grimmjow."

"Keep the kid," Grimmjow urged him, not even listening, "As long as Szayel doesn't find out there wont be a problem. I can get you out of there before...you know." He knew it was wishful thinking on his part and he knew Ulquiorra could do what he wanted with own body, but in these short months Grimmjow had gotten used to the idea of another cub...even sort of excited. "I'll bring you home and...I'll be there this time, ya know..." Grimmjow continued, turning red in the face. He went back to cleaning his sword, if only to give his hands something to do. "We've got this nice place now. You'll have everything you need. Food...water...a good place to sleep. And of course you've got Sol...and you've got me. I know you don't always like me helpin' out, but I'll stay here and protect you...even if you don't want me to." Grimmjow had meant the words to sound casual, like it was only natural he would do this for his mate, but they ended up sounding much softer as they left his mouth, betraying his hidden feelings. He cursed inwardly.

Verbally, Ulquiorra gave no reply. He stood and walked the semicircle around the open fire to where Grimmjow was seated. He wrested Pantera from his grip and gave its cleanliness a brief glance.

"You're rambling, old man," Ulquiorra told him coldly. He tossed Pantera aside and Grimmjow found Ulquiorra's body to be far warmer than his words when his mate was on his lap, settling against his hard chest. Still unsure if he was allowed, Grimmjow wrapped his arms around that small body. Ulquiorra didn't protest.

Sometimes actions expressed more than embarrassing words.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: sometimes I feel like im sailing this thing into a reef by continuing. will you all stay aboard my sinking ship? hehe


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Sorry for the long absence! For the very first time I give you: a chapter that has been beta-ed! Thank you so much for your hard work and advice, lilarin!

Also, GRIMMJOW'S COMING BACK! Seriously, this is my dream come true. I knew Bleach couldn't survive without Grimmjow's absolute sexiness. Meeeoooowwwww. Grimmjow is BOSS.

Anyway, enjoy your mpreg.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Already, the time had come. The days had passed in little more than a blur. They stood on a small dune facing the endless desert, from where, still unseen, an unwelcome guest slowly approached. The wind carried the unmistakable reiatsu to them and Grimmjow tried to keep his mind occupied with happier thoughts.

"_You want a girl or boy?" he found himself asking Ulquiorra suddenly one afternoon. He was lazing about in the tree, looking down and listening as the wind caressed the plants and the water lapped slowly at the shore. Below him,Ulquiorra was using his katana to etch a precise drawing of the Hueco Mundo's geography into the sand. He paused._

"_A female child," He answered. His sword went back to work, scratching an "X" across where Las Noches had been. "I would name her...Hime." _

"_Hime...eh?" Grimmjow studied his hand, flexing the fingers as he remembered how he got his arm back. "She was a good human." Ulquiorra said nothing, making more marks on his map. One in the Menos Forest, one in the mountains._

"_What we want has little significance. We'll have another son."_

"_How can you be so sure?" Grimmjow entertained a doubtful expression. _

"_...I have no logical explanation. Only a feeling," his mate answered. Ulquiorra added numbers to his drawing. He put a six in the the middle of the Great Desert, a three in the Screaming Cliffs, an eight in the Wastelands, a one in the Void Canyon, and a two in the Skeleton Plains. The tip of his sword hovered for a moment over a place known to Grimmjow as the Teeth._

"_Alright, then let me feel." Grimmjow jumped down from his tree branch. He took the dark-haired arrancar into his arms at once, his hands settling on his waist. _

"_What do you think you're doing, Grimmjow?" the smaller man warned. Grimmjow only purred. He felt Ulquiorra stiffen as his hands explored the slight roundness of his mate's belly. _

"_Nope. Totally a girl," Grimmjow said. Ulquiorra spun his katana deftly, flipping it so that the point was digging into Grimmjow's throat rather than the sand._

"_If I say it's male, then it's male. Now, remove your hands." Grimmjow only embraced him harder, knowing that the sword at his throat was an empty threat._

"_What's your problem?I ain't gonna try nothing. Just let me touch you."_

"_Sol was born from our duty," Ulquiorra said softly, "However, we are no longer at Las Noches or under the watchful eye of Aizen. There is nothing protecting this next child but us. Nothing to protect him **from** us."_

_Ulquiorra put his sword back to the sand and drew a large number five. He circled it._

_.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o._

_After that, they said their farewell in the only way that they knew how...with their bodies molded together...with touches rather than words. Ulquiorra had been passionate this time-a more than active participant. Grimmjow had not bothered to hide his anger and helpless frustration. Instead, he let it all out until they were both sweaty and panting. _

_Somehow they'd ended up in the water. Naked, except for the moonlight upon their skin, they became aware of themselves once again as the dream faded. Grimmjow relinquished his grip on Ulquiorra once they were spent. The smaller man pulled himself onto the sandy shore and immediately began dressing himself. Grimmjow had remained a few feet out, submerged up to his waist in the glassy lake. His hands skimmed the surface of the water, creating ripples in the mirror. _

"_Will he come back tonight?" Ulquiorra wondered, looking to the horizon. His hair was in wet snarls around his face, but Grimmjow was still able to read his somber look under the pale moonlight._

"_The kid? Who knows?" Grimmjow sighed, "He's never been gone this long. Perhaps he's never coming back."_

"_My last words to him were not kind," the fourth Espada remarked quietly, "He's still young and naive. He's not ready to be on his own," _

"_He's not ready? Or you're not ready?" Grimmjow replied, and oh how those green eyes had glared back at him._

The wind ghosted over them like the kiss of death.

Grimmjow gripped his katana's hilt until his knuckles had turned white. His scowl grew deeper with each passing second. His eyes filled with hate as his gaze bore into the devil that now stood before them.

"I've come for my payment," Szayel said simply, breaking the eerie silence. He smiled his evilly seductive smile.

What could possibly make him so confident. He'd dared to come alone. No reinforcements hidden nearby. Not even in his released form. Grimmjow was itching to draw his blade. The eighth espada may have augmented his power somewhat since the last time they'd met, but Grimmjow was still certain that Pantera could easily sever the man's head from his body. And of course, Ulquiorra was standing next to him. Six and four against eight? Who would take those odds? Szayel had an ace up his sleeve somewhere...

Ulquiorra laid a hand on his, stopping him from drawing.

"Calm yourself, Sexta," he said. His eyes were narrow and calculating. For a moment his fingers tightened around Grimmjow's. _Remember the plan, _he seemed to say. And Grimmjow thought back to their earlier conversation.

"_Our brethren are gathering once again." Ulquiorra had said quietly, "You must have felt it as well. It seems the Hueco Mundo has gone too long without a king. There are several candidates emerging. Szayel, for one, quite possibly has aspirations to sit where Aizen once did. I can think of no other reason for his massive army."_

"_I don't see what this has to do with us. I thought we decided not to get involved anymore," Grimmjow breathed into Ulquiorra's ear, attempting to turn his thoughts to their bodies. _

"_If I must serve a king again, I'd rather it wasn't Szayel or any other former espada. In fact, it would please me to see them all dead," Ulquiorra explained. Suddenly Grimmjow realized where Ulquiorra was leading him. He let out a low chuckle._

"_You've been scheming something, Cuatro." Grimmjow accused._

"_I've formulated a plan, Sexta. While I am certain that you will not like it, I expect your cooperation all the same."_

Grimmjow spat into the sand at Szayel's feet. The fact that he and Ulquiorra had a plan didn't make him hate this man any less.

"Such horrible manners," Szayel chuckled, "You should be more grateful. I saved your life after all."

"I'll sure as hell make you regret it," Grimmjow snarled, and again, Ulquiorra held him back. Szayel did not seem the least bit perturbed. In fact, he seemed to find the whole situation rather amusing, and that irked Grimmjow all the more.

"This is between us, Octava," Ulquiorra stepped in, "I'd appreciate it if did not attempt to provoke Grimmjow, as we both know how easily he succumbs to his rage. I'd prefer that no blood be shed here today."

_Whose fucking side are you on?_

"Hmm, I had a feeling there'd be difficulties," Szayel replied, as he reached into his jacket, "that's why I took the trouble of bringing _this _with me. I trust you know what _this_ is, Grimmjow?"

He knew perfectly well what _that _was. The little doll crafted in the likeness of Ulquiorra, complete with the blank expression and tear tracks, that Szayel dangled tauntingly from his fingers. He knew that whatever Szayel decided to do to that doll would happen to Ulquiorra as well.

"I also have one of your cute little boy. I hope to someday add you to the collection, wouldn't that be nice? The whole family...together."

Grimmjow was beyond words. Only a string of curses left his mouth. Ulquiorra had gone from his side and walked across the dry sand to stand before Szayel, obediently, as he'd only ever done for Aizen.

"I am yours. Use me as you see fit," Ulquiorra said, his voice lacking all emotion.

"Well, then," began Szayel, smiling once again, "My first order to you, Ulquiorra, is..." His eyes glanced over to Grimmjow and for a moment, the sixth espada was suddenly sickened. Szayel wouldn't make the two of them fight, would he? The pink-haired man moved his gaze to behind them, where their little oasis was visible in the distance."Your home...burn it."

"As you command," Ulquiorra didn't even hesitate. He formed a cero in his palm.

"_No matter what, do not fail me, Grimmjow."_

Those had been his words. And so Grimmjow stood aside and simply watched their stolen paradise erupt in flames.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Sol walked the final few miles home with a certain amount of apprehension. It had taken a long time to get over his anger. He couldn't accept it sometimes...how cold-blooded they could be. Cruel, ruthless, merciless, but they were still his blood.

Though, Sol was beginning to question just how much blood meant to a hollow. What use were people like a "mother" and "father" if they might kill you and devour you just the same as some stranger? Sol always had too many feelings and too much compassion for a hollow. He'd learned to kill out of necessity...and he'd learned not to shed a tear over it for fear of looking weak in front of his parents.

Still, they were all he had in this world. They'd given him life and they had _not_ killed him or eaten him even though it would have been all too easy. Surely that must mean _something_. They were not the monsters they portrayed themselves as.

Sol had flown all the way to the mountain peaks and braved the ice in order to pluck a handful of Luna lilies. Down here, in the heat and in the darkness they had wilted, but hopefully they might still give weight to his apology. With a deep breath he brushed aside the tree branches and found himself at the water's edge. Sol's eyes widened.

Their home was gone. Burned. Plundered. The plants had all been reduced to ashes, their shelter, collapsed. The trees by the water were nothing but blackened sticks. The sand was colored black with ash and soot.

..._a hostile reiastu..._

His sword was out in an instant as it met another's with a loud clang. His eyes met his father's with a spark of recognition. Grimmjow's feral snarl turned briefly to shock. The elder man grunted and stepped back.

"Get lost, boy." Pantera went back in its sheath and Grimmjow turned away. It was then that Sol noticed he could not feel a single trace of Ulquiorra's reiatsu. He looked to the trees and the water and the cave, his eyes searching, as dread suddenly gripped him.

"Where is..."

"Gone," Grimmjow growled, "We won't be seeing him for a while." Sol blinked, confused. Why would Ulquiorra leave them? He couldn't...they were getting along so well. He seemed happy enough. What went wrong? A fight perhaps? Sol's hand tightened around his flowers until he could feel the stems bending. No, someone else was responsible.

"Why? Where?" Sol said, grasping the flowers in his hands until he could feel the stems bending. "He didn't go to that...Szayel...did he?"

"My life wasn't cheap," Grimmjow answered darkly, "Neither was yours, for that matter."

Sol collapsed onto his knees, dirtying the torn, white clothes he wore even further. After all this effort to keep all three of them together...it was starting to seem impossible. He looked up into Grimmjow's hard eyes. What was the man feeling? He should be distraught. He should be already out there fighting to get Ulquiorra back. At least...that was what he knew _he'd_ be doing right now.

Grimmjow immediately picked up on his dangerous train of thought.

"Are those for him?" his father asked, gesturing to the flowers.

"Ah...well..." Sol struggled to form together a sentence, "I was hoping to apol-"

"Don't play me for a fool, Sol. I know how you think. You're a lot like me, so I know you must get hot when you look at Ulquiorra."

"No!" Sol denied fiercely, "It's not like that."

"Isn't it? Not once have you thought of making love to him? Not once have you ever been jealous?" Grimmjow questioned. Sol only bit his lip and shook his head. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. If you desire him, you can have him. As it stands, I am the mate and you are the cub, but that...can easily change."

"Grimmjow, you misunderstand-"

"I understand more than you, boy," Grimmjow snapped, whirling around and grabbing his son by the front of his shirt. He seemed more tired than angry, as if Sol's feelings for Ulquiorra had been less of a betrayal and more of an eventuality. "If you want him badly enough we will take up our swords beat the shit our of each other until one of us dies. Is that what you want?" he hissed in Sol's face, "When that day comes, you won't be my son, you'll be my rival. So think real hard before you decide to go down that road."

"I just want him back," Sol replied quietly.

"There is nothing you can do for him," Grimmjow told him. Sol found himself being dragged down to the water. His face was shoved close to the shimmering surface so that he was staring at his own reflection. A few petals fell from his flowers and broke the clear image.

"What do you see?" Grimmjow asked as he let go. In the reflection, his father was like a ghost standing behind him, his eyes haunted by the things he had seen, changed by secrets he would never tell.

"Us," Sol answered, wondering if this was supposed to be some sort of trick, "We look very similar."

"No. Look closer. What are you missing?"

"A mask," Sol said, hesitating briefly.

"Do you know what that means?"

"That I...am more powerful than you."

"That you are more _human_ than me," Grimmjow corrected after giving him a slap upside the head. "You don't get it. Ulquiorra doesn't want flowers and sweet words." Grimmjow took the bouquet of lilies from his son's hands, tore them up and cast them into the water. "He wants...all of us want...to be conquered." Sol watched the remains of his pretty little flowers float past him.

"If I am not the same as you...then what am I?"

"Hell if I know! Something more! Something less! An arrancar's power comes with a price: humanity, self-awarness, a conscience. The question is...is it a burden or a blessing?" he stood up and put his hands in his pockets. He turned his back to Sol, "Forget about Ulquiorra and go," he continued, "Leave this place...leave this world. If you want answers you wont find them here." Sol grit his teeth and set his mouth in a hard line. He reached into the water and pulled out the only lily that remained whole.

_So then these mythical other worlds really exist?_ The curiosity has always been eating at him. Perhaps Grimmjow was right. He couldn't do anything for Ulquiorra, not yet, but maybe these other dimensions could give him clues as to who and what he was. Perhaps there was someone out there who could tell him all the things his parents wouldn't. Sol got to his feet.

"I want to see the sun. You know how to find it, don't you?" Sol had always wondered about this fascination his parents had over something that the Hueco Mundo was devoid of. He wanted to see it for himself.

"Heh," Grimmjow snorted, "I could get you there, but you'd have to find your own way back. The world of the living will love you no more than the Hueco Mundo. You'll be hunted. You'll be surrounded by enemies, some of them stronger than you."

"For those, I'm prepared. For all the rest...I'm not afraid of trash." Sol replied, determined. Whatever he'd just said sent a shiver down his father's spine. Grimmjow studied him for a long time, as if deciding something.

"Listen, kid. I'm going to tell you something that even Ulquiorra doesn't know about." He reached carefully into his jacket, walked back over to Sol, and placed something into the palm of his hand. Sol stared down at it. The object was a glowing orb encased in some sort of crystal barrier. The light and the heat seemed to be drawing him in.

"They call it the Hougyoku. It doesn't really look like much, but this damn little ball can destroy the world in the right hands," Grimmjow told him. Sol's eyes became wide. That much power? And Grimmjow was giving it to him? "I promised a friend that I would keep it a secret and take it to my grave, never once using its power."

"Then why are you breaking your promise? You shouldn't have told me," Sol said. The power to destroy the world...why would anyone give that up?

"I no longer trust myself...not to use it. This thing's not safe with me and it's not safe in the Hueco Mundo. So now the task falls to you," Grimmjow answered. Sol closed his fingers around the dangerous orb.

The air began to crackle with static around them as Grimmjow gathered a large amount of power. It was as if the very sky was being ripped open, a swirling torrent of energy seemed to drain into a single point and suddenly a portal opened in thin air. Sol gazed into the black depths, seeing nothing. Was this how travel between worlds was possible? Grimmjow was able to do it so easily.

"Go on," said Grimmjow, gruffly, "I'll hold it open til you get to the other side. After that, you're on your own." It was fear that had him momentarily frozen in place, but Sol would never admit that to Grimmjow.

"I...might not see you again," Sol awkwardly attempted a good-bye.

"Don't make a big, emotional deal of it," Grimmjow spat, "Just go." Sol cringed at his cold dismissal, but was he a fool for expecting an embrace or an affectionate pat to the head?

Slipping the Hougyoku into his pocket, he finally stepped up to the dark and ominous portal. He took a deep breath, but before he could enter, Grimmjow took hold of his tail. Sol turned to him questioningly.

"Don't die, kid. It's a dark world without you."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Extra long chapter to make up for my extra long absence. Anime Central is fast approaching and this year I will be going as Grimmjow in his pantera form! I'm so excited!

Anyway, enjoy your mpreg

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Beneath the sands, there was a jungle. In some places it was thick and in other places it was sparse. Even if one was standing upon the desert above, he could still tell the density of the trees below him by the amount of quartz poking through the sand. Often, there was very little, only solitary trees rising through the dunes here and there. Except for a place known to most hollows as the "Teeth."

It was a fitting name, in Grimmjow's opinion, as he gazed upon the foreboding entrance. He was standing above the oldest and thickest part of the menos forest. The quartz trees were so old and so tall, that not only did they break through the sand, they were thick, gnarled, twisted, covered with thorns, and formed a forest of their own.

Dead, white trees that stretched up, pointed and prickly...waiting to chew you up. Like teeth. And the numerous hollows inside would digest you afterword.

"The things I do for love," Grimmjow mumbled. He gripped Pantera and ducked into the thicket. As he walked, he thought of Ulquiorra. He thought of the life they had made and how it was all changing. He thought of Sol and of their unborn child and how he just wanted to be left alone with all of them. He'd grown to love his simple life. He was a settled man. His wild youth was behind him. He was not an Espada anymore. He was not a warrior. He was not part of an army or trying to change the world. All he wanted was to eat, sleep, and fuck for the rest of his days with Ulquiorra as company. The weeks seemed to have passed in wasted solitude, but reuniting with Ulquiorra was going to be impossible unless he followed through on his own part of the operation.

Eyes were watching him through the darkness, following his every move...whispering.

"It's an Arrancar."

"His face... is scary."

"Shall we eat him?"

"No...Leave him..."

There was a light up ahead. Any source of light in the Hueco Mundo was something to be suspicious of. Grimmjow had been walking for so long, however, that he saw nothing but moonlight.

But it was not moonlight. When he drew closer he realized the light was coming off of living creatures. And they were beautiful, like forest nymphs with their enchanting bodies and shimmering eyes, beckoning him closer. They were masked, their faces blank and white. They danced for him, lighting up the sand they stood on and the trees they caressed. They sang like sirens luring him to his untimely death.

"What do you seek, arrancar?" their voices were sensuous and suggestive. In the pale light, they seemed to flit in and out of sight. Grimmjow hardly even noticed when they were close enough to put their hands all over his body. Their lullaby was making his eyes heavy and tired.

"I seek...I...seek..." Grimmjow began and then lost his train of thought. What was he here for again? Something important. But he could not seem to focus. His thoughts drifted away.

"You seek death, arrancar. Let us sing you to your eternal sleep," the closest beauty whispered in his ear. Sleep sounded pretty good to Grimmjow. Asleep with Ulquiorra back in their first cave, curled up together with little Sol held between them.

"Yeah..." Grimmjow said slowly. Then he shook his head fiercely, suddenly remembering why he was here, "What the hell am I saying? NO! Get the hell away from me!" Grimmjow slashed at them with Pantera and they dispersed, running to the darkness of the surrounding trees. Their song was broken. "I seek Nnoitora Gilga, the former Quinta Espada."

"He speaks the Master's name."

"He dares."

"Take me to him now, or every single one of you dies," Grimmjow raised the level of his reiatsu to back his threat. They should all be able to feel him. He was powerful and dangerous and these sorry creatures had better tread carefully.

As expected, the forest hollows fled, taking their light with them. They did not want to stay and find out what Grimmjow was capable of. Grimmjow sighed and continued onward. He went deeper and deeper into the Teeth until he could no longer tell the sky from the ground or the north from the south.

Oddly enough, the farther he went, the more heavily populated the forest became. He could not see them or hear them, but Grimmjow could feel eyes watching him and strange reiatsus following him through the darkness, not all of them weak either. It was if he had stumbled across some sort of community. Normally hollows had no reason to gather in such large quantities unless preparing for battle. However, this did not seem to be the case. These hollows were too unorganized and too shy and frightened to be an army. This forest was their sanctuary. They were hiding here from something.

Grimmjow broke into a large clearing where the moon was beaming down through the twisted quartz. The light burned his eyes after so long in the darkness. There were hollows everywhere, of all shapes and sizes looking down on him from the trees. The glowing enchantresses from before stood guard around a pavilion erected out of stone and quartz, their eyes glaring warningly at Grimmjow. Beneath the pavilion, hollows that could only be servants scurried away in fright. The lone figure in the chair had his face cast into shadow.

For a few tense seconds no one moved. And then the figure stirred in his seat and addressed his subjects in a raspy voice.

"What the hell is this! You're telling me none of you useless shits could take care of a single intruder? Pathetic! Every single one of you! All of you get out of my sight," he dismissed them with a furious wave of his hand. The enchantresses looked hurt. One of them stepped forward.

"But Master-"

"I ain't your fucking master. GET OUT, before I slice you in half." No more words were needed. They ran for the protection of the trees but still remained close enough to watch. Now, with the illusion of solitude, Grimmjow finally spoke up.

"You know, I always figured you were too ugly and stupid to attract a mate. I never imagined I'd find you lazing about with your very own harem," Grimmjow goaded, though he had yet to be certain this was Nnoitora he was dealing with. It had been so long he couldn't quite remember the man's voice or reiatsu. Seconds passed and Grimmjow was not answered. Cold eyes bore into him and Grimmjow found himself chilled to the bone. Nnoitora would have responded to that taunt.

Shrill laughter suddenly pierced the night.

"How bout that...There really is a god." the man finally answered, rising from his chair and walking slowly toward Grimmjow. His silhouette was tall and over his shoulder he carried a large scythe. "This ain't Las Noches, Sexta. Their ain't no rules anymore," the moonlight finally hit his face and Grimmjow grimaced at the sight, taking an involuntary step back. "You could get hurt," A hideous smile twisted on a face that was half burned and scarred. Once black hair had turned an ashen grey, and at his throat, from one ear to the other, a deep cut festered. Perhaps the most alarming, however, was the mask fragment overtaking the left side of his face. "Let's dance, Grimmjow."

He swung Santa Teresa in an arc. Grimmjow caught it with Pantera in the nick of time. With all of Nnoitora's force bearing down on him, Grimmjow chose not to fight it and sonidoed to the edge of the clearing. Nnoitora charged after him and Grimmjow jumped into the nearest tree. Nnoitora fired a cero in his direction and Grimmjow narrowly avoided it by changing trees. Nnoitora fired again and again, annoyed.

"Get down here, you goddamn pussy, and fight me!" the former fifth espada called. A disgusting feeling was beginning to overtake Grimmjow's mind.

Pity.

Of all the damn Espada to feel sorry for, why Nnoitora? The arrancar had once been great...greater than Grimmjow according to Aizen. But now he had become something nearly unrecognizable. Aged, frail, wounded beyond repair, and overflowing with rage. From the look of his mask, it seemed he was in the process of de-evolution as well.

"What's the point in fighting a corpse?" Grimmjow answered, returning to the ground. Nnoitora was upon him once again, snarling. Grimmjow took care to dodge all of the attacks. Upon realizing that he could not make contact, Nnoitora howled in frustration.

"I thought you might just be the answer to my fucking prayers! If there is anyone left on this planet who could to do it, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques could," the Quinta said hoarsely. It seemed as though their short fight had already left Nnoitora panting and weak. He shoved Santa Teresa into the sand with an angry growl and stood before Grimmjow unarmed and waiting. "Just kill me, you idiot," Nnoitora spat at him after a few moments of Grimmjow standing there, puzzled. There was no hesitation in his voice. "I ain't gonna live like this. It's damn painful. Give me the death I always wanted. Give me death after fighting someone strong."

Grimmjow's eyes widened. After all that searching, after all his and Ulquiorra's speculation and careful planning, he hadn't expected _this_. This was not part of the plan.

A look of desperation briefly crossed Nnoitora's face. "What's the matter, Sexta? Gone soft? Think of all the times I nearly killed you. Think of all the times I threatened your little fucktoy. Kill me." Again, Grimmjow said nothing. How was he supposed to react to this? Nnoitora dragged Santa Teresa back over to him with a clink of the chain. "I don't deserve death right?" his voice was quiet, "Is that what you fucking want to say? I deserve this agony? Chicken shit. Get out, then. If you can't do it, get out," he turned around and began to walk away.

"Szayel is planning to take over the entire Hueco Mundo," Grimmjow finally said in a last ditch effort to make his case. He couldn't let him leave already. " Are you just going to let that happen? Don't you want...revenge?" Those words got Nnoitora to stop in his tracks. Grimmjow had the feeling he had just crept into forbidden territory.

"What happened between me and that cunt is none of your damn business," the fifth's voice was low and deadly, "You. Don't. Know. Anything."

He didn't. Not really. Only what he and Ulquiorra had guessed. He managed to play it off, however.

"Do you think you can hide in your little forest forever? Don't you want to get back at him for all the things he's done to you?" Grimmjow hinted in a desperate try to bait the other man. Nnoitora only glared at him through the corner of his one eye.

"If you ain't gonna kill me, then get out. I'm already sick of your face," his tone remained unchanged. It was clear this conversation was not going to take place. Nnoitora wasn't interested in making a bargain of any sort. The only thing he cared about now was an honorable death by another's sword. When Grimmjow refused to comply, the Quinta Espada vanished into the trees without another word, leaving behind his entourage. Grimmjow's heart began to sink. He'd failed.

He expected the other hollow to disperse. Nnoitora was gone and the show was over. However, for some strange reason, the atmosphere became tense. The horde hiding in the surrounding darkness stirred restlessly. A strange uneasiness settled in Grimmjow's stomach.

"Why would someone like you want to help hollows like us?" came a small voice from behind him. Grimmjow whirled around but found nothing but trees.

"Princess," a voice greeted.

"Stella-sama," another whispered.

"My Lady," the words were hushed in fear or awe. The others parted to make way.

_Lady_ was not quite an accurate description. She was a head shorter than the rest of them, with young, girlish features and an innocent aura. Unlike the others, her body was perfectly humanoid and her reiatsu, powerful. Her pink hair was a rat's nest upon her head and she was filthy from head to toe. From her appearance and lack of a mask, Grimmjow immediately knew what he was looking at. She was a hollow born of two arrancar.

"Nnoitora-sama has lost his will to live. It's pointless talking with him. But I..." she hesitated slightly, "...am very curious about this revenge you are offering."

"My Lady," an enchantress spoke from the crowd, "Do not trust this outsider."

"He is dangerous," another chimed in, "He brings death and destruction upon our doorstep."

The girl ignored them both, her hard eyes still locked on Grimmjow, patiently waiting for his response.

"You're just a kid. What vendetta could you possibly have against Szayel?" Grimmjow scoffed. Though he was certain he already knew. The girl stiffened in anger.

"Nnoitora-sama is the way he is now because of that man. He's dying slow and painful and if I can't save him then I want to avenge him," she said darkly, "Most of the hollows here in the forest were once part of the Colony. They are rejects, mutants, and failed experiments. Monsters that have no place in the world. I want revenge for them. Most importantly, I want to find my siblings who are still captive and set them free. So if you say you want to kill Szayel, then I want to help you."

Grimmjow smiled. Perhaps his trip here wasn't a total waste after all. If he had this girl, he might not even need Nnoitora.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Here, the cameras could not see him. The only passageway in the entirety of Szayel's Colony that wasn't being monitored had become one of Ulquiorra's frequent haunts. In the quiet and darkness he imagined Grimmjow and his rough, possessive touches, letting his face flush at the memories. He was plagued constantly with thoughts of his mate. He had not been away from Grimmjow in so long that he had forgotten what it was like to be without him. He'd forgotten all about the overpowering loneliness of his previous life...what it was like to wander without a purpose. That led him to wonder...Did Grimmjow think of him at all? Was his presence missed?

Ulquiorra cut off the train of thought abruptly. It was best not to think on it. He would blame it on the child and his own traitorous body, telling him he needed Grimmjow when he was perfectly capable of functioning on his own. He couldn't afford to entertain ridiculous, romantic delusions while locked in an enemy fortress.

He inspected his own body with anxious hands, feeling the inevitable swell; a bulge that was now visible without clothing to hide it. Late. Grimmjow was late. The next phase of the plan should have begun by now. Perhaps he'd been wrong to assume so much about Nnoitora.

"No!" a fearful voice screamed from somewhere at the end of the long corridor, shaking Ulquiorra from his thoughts, "No! I will not! I haven't done anything. I was told I was done! I WILL NOT GO BACK IN THERE!"

Ulquiorra paused in his stride to better listen to the screeching tones. Here in Szayel's Colony, everything was calm and orderly. Raised voices were something of a rarity. He stood at the intersection of the two tunnels, partially hiding himself in the shadows until the other party came across him.

"Stop! Stop this please. I don't know what I've done wrong!" the voice had been reduced to sobs.

A parade of Szayel's elite goons marched past. Ulquiorra could rank them by their attire. They were all large and muscular, covered in armor, and masked with pincers where their mouths would be. They were B-series clones, specializing in brute strength. Their prisoner seemed to be the one making the ruckus, as he was being dragged, quite brutally, by his bright pink hair. Ulquiorra was slightly surprised to see that he was so young, no older than Sol, yet horribly beaten and stripped naked. They passed and Ulquiorra caught the eye of the young boy.

He had no mask.

For a fleeting moment, Ulquiorra was given the most pleading of looks. Then the boy went mum and allowed himself to be dragged silently down the rest of the corridor and through a thick iron door. It closed with a slam and locked with a click.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned sooner that this area is off limits."

Ulquiorra turned around slowly to face Szayel. He should have known by the dim lighting that Szayel was away from his throne in the central chamber. How the man had known that Ulquiorra was all the way down here, in the bowels of the great underground structure, was a mystery.

"I apologize. I was unaware I was not allowed in this area," Ulquiorra answered genuinely, "I will refrain from trespassing in the future." Even a thick iron door and earth walls could not hold back the terrible screams from the room down the hall. Szayel paid them no heed and Ulquiorra was forced to conclude that he had indeed ordered the torture of that young boy.

But Ulquiorra Cifer was never one to care. Such things were not his business.

"What is beyond that door?" he found himself asking anyway.

"Dangerous and disgusting things, I'm afraid," Szayel answered airily, "But it is nothing that concerns you." He rested one hand on his hip and cocked his head so that pink hair fell over one shoulder, "Obey me and you shall have no reason to see the inside."

"I understand," Ulquiorra responded. Szayel only narrowed his eyes, perhaps unsatisfied with Ulquiorra's lack of curiosity.

"You've been quiet, Ulquiorra. You never refuse me You haven't tried to escape. You follow my every command. I'm beginning to see why Aizen treasured you so much. Now that you have become accustomed to the way things are done here, I wish to put your abilities to good use."

"I will serve you however I can," said Ulquiorra flatly, and again Szayel gazed upon him with mild suspicion.

"You are probably wondering how long I plan to keep you. You're probably anxious to get back to your buffoon of a mate and his senseless fucks. Well, Ulquiorra, there is only one, simple, little thing I want and as soon as it's mine, I'll release you from your bonds.

"Then I will do my best to help you acquire this thing. What do you desire of me?."

"Come now Ulquiorra. Do you really have to ask?" Szayel chuckled, "It's the Hueco Mundo I'm after. I've created this magnificent army. Now what is left but to conquer these lands one by one and enslave or kill each and every inhabitant?"

"Surely that is impossible. I fear you are overconfident in your abilities," Ulquiorra answered shortly. True, Szayel had the numbers, but against a strong enough hollow, numbers meant nothing.

"Not _my_ abilities, Cuatro, but yours," the Eighth Espada corrected him with a cunning smirk, "There are two types of hollows out there," he began with a tired exhale, as if preparing to educate a child in a tedious subject. He crossed his arms behind his back and walked a small, predatory circle around Ulquiorra, "I am a man of science, Ulquiorra, fit for nothing but the inside of a laboratory, surrounded by test-tubes and machines. I am a man who _creates_. I can recreate our world, build it grander and more powerful than Aizen ever could, but first I need someone to destroy what already exists. I need you, Ulquiorra, the most powerful Espada to ever live."

_That is debatable..._

He said nothing, his face a mask of perfect indifference. For now, he was content to play Szayel's obedient puppet.

"Your wish is my command," the Cuatro Espada replied. It seemed that Szayel had become sufficiently bored with him, as he'd put up no resistance or shown any reaction thus far. The Eighth's poisonous eyes finally left his.

_Yes, that's right_, Ulquiorra thought dully as he watched Szayel retreat down the corridor. _I shall be your double-edged sword. Swing me at your enemies, but do not forget how dangerous I still am to you._

As if sensing Ulquiorra's treason, Szayel paused outside the iron door.

"Do not ever think to cross me, Ulquiorra, or I shall make sure to end your entire family. Starting with the unborn."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Grimmjow remained in the forest at the request of his new friend. When it became clear that Nnoitora would neither welcome Grimmjow nor throw him out, the other hollows who had so far only tolerated his presence gradually began to accept him.

It was a hard thing for Grimmjow to get used to...being hailed as some sort of savior. The hollows who had once greeted him with hostility and fear now regarded him with a strange respect. When he would walk by they no longer shrank back into the darkness, they stepped out to observe him curiously. When they addressed him they used unnecessary honorifics. Occasionally they left gifts and food for him in the place where he slept. It was the most bizarre behavior that Grimmjow had ever witnessed in other hollows, but it also opened his eyes to just how much these creatures had suffered.

They were united by their common desire to bring about the demise of Szayel, and now that Grimmjow had come, they were under the impression that he would be leading them. They were base creatures who had seemingly no pride or wills of their own. They lived in constant fear.

Subtle differences in appearance could tell Grimmjow where each hollow had come from. Those who had escaped from Szayel's labs had been tattooed with a series of letters and numbers. Those who came from the dungeons had numbers only. Others had nothing at all and were either the original forest dwellers, or had been displaced when Szayel destroyed their homes.

And of course there was the girl. She was their princess...their hero, Grimmjow discovered, who'd freed them from the dark recesses of the Colony. He wondered, however, if the other hollows would follow her quite so willingly if they knew what she was.

"That must be him," she whispered to Grimmjow, looking up at the sky. Grimmjow, her, and a small band of her degenerates had been harassing Szayel's forces in a number of creative ways for the past few weeks and now here, at the Screaming Cliffs, they were ready to make their stand. "The arrancar that's leading Szayel's army. The black-winged demon who they say can slaughter a herd of menos with just a finger."

Grimmjow followed her gaze to the ominous black figure circling in the distant sky. His breath caught in his throat when he recognized Ulquiorra's reiatsu. It seemed a life-time since they'd last seen each other. He suddenly had a mad desire to step out of hiding and call out to his mate, but squashed the thought before it could develop further. He had a job to do.

"Believing shit like that will only make you weak," Grimmjow replied gruffly. He turned away, "But the fact that he's here doesn't bode well for us." He picked up his sword and headed out once it was safe, "We're attacking at first light. Tell the others."

Her lips were set in a frown. She looked like she wanted to ask where he was going, but she kept her mouth shut, perhaps deciding that it was none of her business.

He descended the rocky cliff side, careful to not lose his footing in the blackness of the night. He scoured the area long and hard before finally finding the reiatsu of the Espada he was looking for. She noticed him as well and, for a moment, they stood tense. Then she came at him. Their swords clashed.

"I've come to negotiate with you."

"I don't want to hear any words out of a traitor's mouth."

"Then perhaps you'll hear mine," came a voice. Grimmjow looked up sharply to see Ulquiorra step into view. Dressed in the armored uniform common to all of Szayel's elites and holding Murcielago out before him, he proved a severely intimidating figure. As much as Grimmjow wanted to stare at him, talk to him, run over and touch him, he remained still and brought his gaze back to the Tercera Espada.

Harribel's gaze flickered between them, she knew she was cornered.

"Interesting. One is here on behalf of Szayel and the other, Nnoitora," she remarked calmly, "Both have been after my land for some time, that is no surprise. What is surprising is to find that they have recruited such powerful allies." Ulquiorra stepped closer, a strange blood-lust in his eyes. Harribel did not miss the gesture. "If I throw in with one of you, will the other die?" she asked. Grimmjow exchanged a look with Ulquiorra. She knew. She knew the two of them were actually on the same side.

"No," answered Ulquiorra expressionlessly, reaching a decision quickly, "You will die here no matter what you chose to do."

With a growl, Grimmjow resumed their fight, stabbing viciously with Pantera. Ulquiorra followed them with observant, green eyes but did not join in. Grimmjow was grateful for that. Two on one wasn't his style. Neither did he want any accidents.

They fought for hours. They could not release or they would risk rousing the sleeping armies on either side of the cliffs, so they were forced to fight with basic techniques only. Occasionally, one of them would become frustrated enough to use a cero and Harribel once used her Ola Azul, but the utter destruction it caused alarmed the both of them enough to resort back to simply swordplay. Eventually, Harribel began to tire and Grimmjow forced her on the defensive.

He didn't expect Ulquiorra to come up and stab her through the back with Murcielago. Shocked, but not stupid, Grimmjow took the opportunity to finish the job.

"Trai...tor..." she choked through a mouthful of blood. When all was silent once more, Ulquiorra pulled his sword from the corpse.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Grimmjow rounded on him.

"It was inevitable."

"That's no excuse!" Grimmjow fumed. He was angry, yes, but he couldn't ignore the fact that he and Ulquiorra were now alone. The maddening urge to take the other man into his arms returned. Ulquiorra did not seem to share it.

"Time is short, Grimmjow. We must get down to business," the smaller man stated. He scraped the blood from his sword on a nearby rock. "Who is the girl?"

"Noticed her, did you?" replied Grimmjow, not missing the note of jealousy in the other man's voice. "She's definitely related to Szayel. Either a clone or his actual kid. Not exactly sure what her deal is, but she has a bone to pick with our mad scientist."

"Clones do not have minds of their own," Ulquiorra inputted. Then, as if remembering something, he turned his gaze to the ground and his expression turned solemn. "It has been a long time, Grimmjow. Did Nnoitora give you trouble?"

"Whatever happened between five and eight musta been bigger than we thought. Nnoitora's in a sorry state. De-evolution, unhealing wounds, flesh practically rotting off his bones...the guy's a walking corpse."

"Perhaps this entire plot of ours is a hopeless cause," Ulquiorra said quietly and surprisingly bleak. He sighed. "Harribel is dead but she's collected a number of strong hollows in her pack. I am rather disappointed. Your forces are no match for Szayel's clones. I propose you concede this territory to us."

"No fucking way," Grimmjow scowled. His men were itching for bloodshed and he would not refuse them their battle. Anyway, wasn't it in his and Ulquiorra's best interests to let them all kill each other? What was the problem?

"Grimmjow...we are not playing a game. Szayel already believes I'm plotting against him and I am now in desperate need of his favor-"

His words were cut off abruptly as Grimmjow closed the distance between them and captured his lips in an impatient kiss. He simply couldn't hold it in any longer. Their kiss morphed into something like the kisses they used to share, wet and passionate. Ulquiorra, shorter than him, arched his neck up to meet him and fisted his hands in his jacket to gain proper leverage. Grimmjow embraced him tightly.

"I didn't want to say it but, I can't fucking stand being away from you," Grimmjow panted when they broke apart for air. Ulquiorra acted like he wanted to pull away but Grimmjow stubbornly held the other arrancar to his chest.

"Sol?" Ulquiorra inquired.

"The kid is fine. Let's not talk about him," Grimmjow growled, burying his face in Ulquiorra's dark hair. After several minutes like this, Ulquiorra stirred.

"Things have become complicated," the smaller arrancar spoke into his mate's chest, "Szayel has discovered that I am with child and has begun to threaten me accordingly. I am uncertain...what to do about this."

_Run away, _Grimmjowwanted to tell him, as if it were the most obvious course of action. He knew it was a stupid idea. No matter how far he and Ulquiorra ran, Szayel and his damned dolls had power over them. He could hurt them and at the same time was nigh untouchable. What they needed was someone else to eliminate him for them, but even that plan was starting to look grim.

Grimmjow's long silence did nothing to soothe his mate's troubles. Ulquiorra's fingers tightened their hold upon Grimmjow's shirt. The Sixth Espada did not miss the slight quivering of the other man's shoulders.

"Have you nothing to say?" Ulquiorra asked him quietly. Grimmjow was suddenly aware that his mate was afraid. He was afraid as well. They'd never had more to lose than they did now. No, he had nothing to say. He couldn't comfort Ulquiorra like this. Grimmjow turned away, but Ulquiorra caught him by putting his hand on his shoulder. His grip was fierce and from his hot gaze, Grimmjow knew exactly what he wanted.

"We can't fuck _here_," Grimmjow told him, finding it odd that he was attempting to be the sensible one.

"Upon a lavish bed in Las Noches or upon coarse, blood-soaked sand...it makes no difference to me as long as it is you," the smaller man stated boldly. He slowly removed his armor piece by piece and then moved onto his clothing.

Grimmjow sucked in a breath as he watched Ulquiorra bare himself. His fingers itched to caress that pale skin and dark hair. _Hell_ how he wanted to run his hands over the small belly his mate had acquired in the time they'd been apart and feel the form of their developing progeny. He wished to touch and tease and _taste_ that thin body until he had Ulquiorra gazing up at him pleadingly. He wouldn't hesitate to leave marks on that exquisite neck and chest, nor would he attempt to restrain himself when finally sheathed in that constricting warmth that he had gone too long without. However, Grimmjow knew that if he were to step forward and claim all that Ulquiorra was offering, he would pass the point of no return and never again would he allow the other arrancar out of his embrace. He painfully tore his gaze away.

"I'll see you on the battlefield," Grimmjow whispered, his voice raw with emotion. As he walked away, he noticed Ulquiorra cross his arms around himself and sink heavily to his knees.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.


	34. Chapter 34

Danke, lilarin, for being the best beta ever.

Chapter 34

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The sun was rising again. Sol sat, transfixed, as he did every morning, and watched the first rays of light peak over the horizon. There was an enormous, fiery ball hiding beyond those hills. It was so bright that it could not be looked directly into without burning holes into your vision. Its light was warm and relaxing, and created a spectrum of color the Sol had never known existed until entering this bizarre world. It seemed a god-like power, and Sol felt unworthy to be named for something so wonderful.

He was high up in the air, delicately perched upon the steel beams of an unfinished building. The humans working in this place had abandoned their project once Sol had moved in, claiming the building "haunted."

But that was alright. Humans did not taste good.

It didn't take long at all for Sol to decide this. It was quite unexpected. Humans had such frightening faces...no masks to hide their flesh...eyes bright and bare. It was difficult to get used to maskless faces surrounding him all the time.

The humans were not hostile creatures. In fact, they could not see him. Neither were they hostile with each other. They often got together in large groups for no apparent reason. They did not fight often. They never ate each other. They hardly ever even killed each other. Sol was fascinated by them...these strange creatures who resembled him so much, yet were so different.

Laughter from the street below caught Sol's attention. It was a group of human children, though he supposed they were nearing adulthood like himself. Their clothing suggested they were on their way to "school." School was where humans sent their children when they didn't want them anymore. It seemed to be something like torture, packing them all into one room for hours on end. It was the subject of frequent complaint among the young humans, but nothing was ever done about it and they continued to show up without fail. How strange.

Sol jumped down onto a lower beam for a closer look. He froze when he felt eyes following him.

"Hey, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"Up there. I think it was some sort of cat."

"Cool...Hey! Where are you going?"

"To check it out."

"You're gonna be late for class."

The voices faded and suddenly there was a loud clanging. Sol peeked over the ledge. The orange-haired one was actually attempting to climb up.

"Here Kitty, Kitty!" the human called as he shimmied up the pipe. He lost his grip and went sliding to the ground in a dusty heap. It was very amusing. Sol hadn't realized he started laughing until the human boy was staring at him in shock. "You're not a cat."

"No," Sol hummed, "And since you are able to see me, you must not be a human." A strange excitement had taken a hold of him. He landed on the ground and began to inspect the creature. No hollow hole, no sword, no reiatsu...What exactly was he? Sol sampled a taste with his tongue. He tasted quite human...except perhaps a bit sweeter.

"Ah, you must be a spirit," the teen said, hardly disturbed by Sol's closeness.

"Spirit?" Sol blinked.

"Yeah. You're dead, aren't you? People never believe me, but I've always been able to see spirits and I've always known about the other worlds. My grandfather used to tell me stories about the Winter War, when he and Grimmjow Jeagerjaques saved the Hueco Mundo. Heh, well I suppose you have no idea what I'm talking about."

Sol stared at him, astonished. He hadn't expected to hear his own father's name spill from the lips of this...human. He grabbed the boy by the shoulders.

"This story! I must hear it!" That's when Sol felt the prick on the back of his neck. In all his excitement, he failed to notice the approach of two strange reiatsus.

"It _is_ a thrilling tale," came a male voice from behind him. A woman moved into his line of sight. She was small and dark-haired and had her sword pointed threateningly at Sol.

"Unhand the boy, Arrancar, and my partner and I will give you a painless death."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The wolves howled at their approach. It was, to Grimmjow's ears, a haunting battle-cry.

He was not accustomed to leading troops into battle. Fights involving a large amount of hollows on either side required a different sort of strategy than one on one duels. It couldn't be so simple as I am stronger than you. With so many hollows to command the battles often became mixtures of I am smarter than you and I am more desperate than you. Strength was important only on an individual level. Sitting back and commanding was rather boring, but Grimmjow knew from the beginning that he was ill-suited to such warfare.

Though the howls would have been more than enough, Grimmjow had long since been informed about who he would find holed up in this dusty canyon. He thought back to when Ulquiorra was informing him of his mission...

_A sandstorm was raging outside but the two of them were nice and snug in the little shelter they had stolen from Loly and Menoly. Snugly fit together...that is._

_Ulquiorra's fingernails made a terrible scraping noise as they clawed the rock wall he was shoved against. There was nothing for the smaller man to brace himself with as Grimmjow ruthlessly penetrated him. _

"_So you're telling me I can find Nnoitora hidden somewhere in the Teeth?" Grimmjow asked him._

"_Most likely..." Ulquiorra gasped, "And the Noventa in the Menos forest...The Primera in the Void Canyon...The Tercera in the Screaming Cliffs. You will be responsible for them. I must locate the others still," his breath hitched when Grimmjow, buried to the hilt, ground against him slowly._

"_What about Baragon? Everyone knows where to find him," Grimmjow breathed onto the back of his partner's neck. Ulquiorra tried his best to ignore it._

"_Baragon has amassed too many followers for us to take him on without support."_

"_And Szayel and Nnoitora-"_

"_-we save for last. They may very well kill each other before that...if my suspicions about them are correct."_

_Wet, slapping sounds filled the cave when Grimmjow finally established a rhythm. Ulquiorra, initially stiff-backed and expressionless, inhaled sharply and arched his tantalizingly tight body. He let his head fall forward to rest against solid stone and pushed back to meet his mate's deep thrusting. _

"_You fuck...like an animal...Sexta," Ulquiorra told him with his face was pressed up to the wall. His voice was heady and breathless and he failed to mention if he was pleased or not._

"_I am an animal," Grimmjow replied, slightly impatient. His hands, which had previously been toying with the erect buds upon Ulquiorra's chest, slid lower to rest on his abdomen. Ulquiorra shuddered at the contact. Grimmjow knew that his touching of the place where their child rested made his mate slightly uncomfortable. He wasn't exactly sure why. Perhaps it stemmed from bad memories of his pregnancy with Sol. Grimmjow hadn't been the most caring mate back then...Ulquiorra had a right to be wary. _

_Thinking of Ulquiorra's protectiveness renewed his passion somewhat and his love-making suddenly became even more overly-aggressive. Ulquiorra's quiet moans increased in pitch and volume until he saw fit to shut his mouth so as not to embarrass himself. He came silently, shivering and tensing while an intense orgasm ravaged his body. Grimmjow soon followed suit and caught his mate before the smaller arrancar could collapse, exhausted, against the wall._

"_Szayel and Nnoitora I understand," Grimmjow panted, getting back to the subject at hand, "But why the rest of them as well?" Ulquiorra shoved his mate off of him, in no apparent mood for excessive affection. He stood there, breathing heavily, with Grimmjow's essence trailing down his legs. He did not seem bothered. Grimmjow, recognizing his dismissal, fell back lazily onto his make-shift bedding._

"_The Arrancar who've been touched by Aizen have become enlightened...dangerously so. They've seen things they never should have seen. They know secrets that never should have been revealed. They are a cancer to the Hueco Mundo that must be eradicated," Ulquiorra spoke quietly. _

"_Us as well?" Grimmjow wondered aloud, partly in jest. He didn't expect to be answered._

"_Us most of all," Ulquiorra said gravely._

Well. the idea had seemed simple at the time, but if Grimmjow had known exactly how much of his own sweat and blood would have been involved to reach their goal, perhaps he would have protested more.

With no wind in the Void Canyon, the dust from their primary assault hung indefinitely in the air. The howling had stopped, but it had given way to the sound of vicious snarls and flesh being torn from bone. Grimmjow broke away from where the wolves had ambushed them, determined to seek out their leader.

Grimmjow suddenly felt what could only be a gun barrel pressed to his temple.

"You're a real pain in the ass. I didn't want any part in this. I was willing to let you pass, but you've given me no choice. Now all the hollows who serve you will die."

"You're pretty damn sure of yourself, aren't ya?" Grimmjow answered. That his prey would come to him only made it easier. "Did Aizen know that without a leash you're nothing but a rabid dog? Coulda bit him as well."

"The cat doesn't know loyalty to a master," came the bored reply. Grimmjow didn't miss the hidden accusation of _traitor_ in his opponent's words.

"Then come at me, dog. Let see which of us is the more fearsome beast."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Report," commanded Szayel, leaning back in his throne and studying them thoughtfully. Upon his lap, he had placed that wretched doll. Ulquiorra could not help staring into those green, glassy eyes that had been crafted in his likeness. Exhaling silently, he stepped forward and bent into a bow below the stone steps.

"The Silent Dunes and the Great Desert are yours," Ulquiorra stated calmly, "The former Espada Yammy Llargo is dead and there are none left in the area to oppose you." The words leaving his mouth seemed strange and detached, as if it were someone else saying them. This made three dead Espada now and an exponential amount of territory, but he knew better than to think Szayel would be impressed. This was only what was expected of him.

"It must have been hard for you to kill a man you used to work so closely with," his pink-haired master commented, a sinister smile gracing his features. His fingers closed around the doll and Ulquiorra held in an involuntary shiver as he swore he felt a ghostly force constrict around his own body.

Szayel of all people should know that while fighting Yammy might prove to be rather difficult, deceiving him was not. Lately, because the effects of his pregnancy making him weaker, Ulquiorra did all he could to avoid drawing his sword. It was shameful, but he wasn't about to admit that his killing methods now included base and cowardly trickery.

"You must have misconceptions about my relationship with Yammy. He was nothing to me other than a mindless tool," Ulquiorra replied without hesitation.

Szayel simply nodded, leading Ulquiorra to believe that his answer was within the acceptable range. The man on the throne turned his gaze to the leader of his southern campaign. The other hollow bowed obediently upon being acknowledged.

"My Queen, I have failed to take the Blood Spire. We were met with fierce resistance and forced to retreat. However, while my sources confirm that Grimmjow Jeagerjaques," here M01 paused a moment to send Ulquiorra a sidelong glance, "is leading these rebels, it seems that _she _is also among them."

"She?" echoed the Queen. M01 stiffened under his fierce gaze.

"It is as you feared, Majesty. It is _her_. It is S01."

Szayel shifted in his throne so that he was leaning casually on his arm. An amused chuckle escaped him,"Is that so?" he drawled as he studied his minion and then shifted his eyes to Ulquiorra, "M01, I am returning you to the hibernation chamber tomorrow. Ulquiorra shall take over your command."

Silence met this proclamation.

"My Queen," began the insectoid hollow in a slow, robotic voice, sounding quite displeased, "Was I not designed specifically to counter her abilities? Is it not my duty to-"

"It is your duty to follow my orders without question," Szayel responded sharply, and M01, as if suddenly remembering his place, bowed his head and uttered a quiet apology.

Ulquiorra looked through the corner of his eye at Szayel's faithful disciple, dark suspicion now entering his mind. It was a minor slip-up, easily overlooked, but it had been one of many Ulquiorra had noticed over the past few weeks. Perhaps he was mistaken, but it seemed as though this _lab rat_ of Szayel's, obedient and mechanic as he conducted himself, was capable of independent thought.

"The traitors will get what is coming to them," Szayel continued, "Every single one." He stood from his throne. "Leave us, M01."

"Yes, my Queen," the hollow answered immediately. As he headed for the door, he lingered purposely for a moment in front of Ulquiorra, eyes through the mask giving him a hateful look.

Ulquiorra chose not to look up. Fading footsteps and the rumble of the door sliding back into place alerted the former Fourth to his and Szayel's solidarity. His heartbeat quickened just the slightest and he had the insane notion of skewering the self-proclaimed scientist upon Murcielago, but of course, the idea never came to fruition.

"I don't know what that imbecile you call your mate is up to, but fortunately it does not matter," Szayel spoke to him quietly. "He'll soon be dead. As will _Nnoitora. _Both of them cling to lives that should already have ended." By now, Ulquiorra had experienced Szayel's intimidation routine a number of times, but the mention of Grimmjow was something new. "They should accept their fate. They've done their part and with their final purpose complete, they should go gracefully to their deaths," Szayel walked down the few stairs and walked until Ulquiorra found himself staring at his master's feet. "Don't you agree, Ulquiorra?"

He finally looked up. Toxic, yellow eyes bore into his own. It wasn't hard to figure out what this madman was alluding to. To a mind like Szayel's, a _mate_ had only two uses: procreation and then sustenance.

"Perhaps you'd like to see something interesting," Szayel began, abruptly changing the subject. He opened up his Ulquiorra doll, exposing the contents for its larger counterpart to see. At first glance, it seemed to be filled with brightly colored candy. Upon closer inspection Ulquiorra saw that he was actually looking at tiny representations of his organs. His stomach churned. "Do you want to know how I figured out your little secret?" Szayel continued, looking amused, "It's quite simple. I have enough knowledge of arrancar anatomy to know what belongs in here and what doesn't."

Watching Szayel shift through his metaphorical insides caused the bile to rise in Ulquiorra's throat.

Szayel held out his find for the smaller arrancar to see. There, pinched precariously between the nails of the Eighth Espada's index finger and thumb, was a small, blue sphere with tiny letters spelling out the words _Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. _Ulquiorra's hands tightened into fists.

"Your body recognizes this as something belonging to Grimmjow. What do you think it could be?"

Ulquiorra knew he should feign ignorance and play along, but with anger slowly overtaking his fear all he managed to do was clench his jaw and rest a hand on Murcielago's hilt. Szayel seemed to recognize he could take his threat no further and, with a satisfied smirk on his face, he stood.

"You are dismissed, Ulquiorra."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Shortly after, Ulquiorra found himself wandering the corridors, hatred for Szayel threatening to bubble to the surface. The Fourth Espada was a well-known and intimidating figure within the Colony, not the least bit friendly with anyone who inhabited the place with him. None of the clones, no matter their class, dared approach him unless they had to. The lab assistants were the same. The only hollows in the Colony who didn't seem to fear him were the wretched souls locked in the dungeons, who would snicker and comment when he happened to walk through.

And so when Ulquiorra entered the Colony's communal eating hall as he did late every night, the others already in the room made themselves scarce or retreated to the tables in the far corners. As he stared at the regulation substitute food sitting on a plate before him, Ulquiorra found he could not take his mind off of that infernal doll. So long at it existed, he and his unborn child were little more than hostages.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, hand traveling to where his pup was shifting inside him. Getting worked into a rage over his situation would accomplish nothing. He had to appear unfazed, showing no anger or fear. The world must not know of his weaknesses.

"You do not look well, _Commander,_" a voice commented from behind. Looking from the corner of his eye, Ulquiorra noticed that the mosquito man had snuck up on him. M01 laid a hand on his shoulder. For a moment, Ulquiorra was simply shocked. None of these pieces of garbage born from Szayel and his experiments should feel that they had any right to tough him. Fingers suddenly tightened upon the material of his jacket, and the masked hollow leaned in close so that he was speaking in Ulquiorra's ear.

"Do not think that this has gained you his favor," M01 whispered to him in an uncharacteristically acidic voice, "You are nothing but a toy to him. He'll cast you aside like the others. _I_ am his one true servant, you'll see."

The Fourth Espada narrowed his eyes. Did this idiot honestly think that Ulquiorra took any pleasure in doing Szayel's bidding? It was no competition, but his coworker was seething with envy. Plain-as-day envy. It was the most pathetic thing Ulquiorra had ever seen. Who could possibly be so devoted to a man like Szayel?

Ulquiorra stood up so that he was facing M01's mosquito mask. Slowly, he peeled the fingers off of his shoulder and twisted them until the heard the "pop" of their dislocation. M01 winced. It wasn't much but it was enough. This creature could feel pain as well as emotions. Ulquiorra knocked his colleague's sword from his grasp before it could be drawn.

"I would tell a clone that any attempts to fight me would end in failure," Ulquiorra said to him, low and deadly, "But you are no clone, are you?" _You are a dangerous unknown._

The dark-haired Espada shoved the naked sword into his belt beside his own and left the dining hall. M01 had no choice but to follow him. Leaving the Colony without direct orders was strictly forbidden, and if M01 had not just been put in his place, he would have likely reminded Ulquiorra of this fact. However, instead of speaking up, the other hollow chose to follow him through the winding tunnels and out into the open air without a word.

Openly defying his captor was not the smartest or most logical thing to do at the present time, but Szayel of all people should know that Ulquiorra hungered for more than the terrible-tasting synthetic food his facilities served.

Sonidoing through the vast wastelands, Ulquiorra was aware of his silent follower but paid him no attention as he scoured the area for an acceptable meal. He was unlike to find much, if anything at all, as it was such a desolate place. Hours of searching into the night finally yielded some results when Ulquiorra came upon a small, unfortunate troupe of adjunchas searching for the same thing as him. He took them out silently and quickly before they'd even known who killed them. It wasn't a gourmet meal but it would do.

Ulquiorra ate past the point of satisfying himself, as few opportunities like this presented themselves and heaven only knew when he could next escape like this. He could feel M01's presence behind him and purposely ignored the other hollow until he was finished. The little mosquito might think himself important, but if he attempted to encroach upon this kill, Ulquiorra would remind him who was of higher status between the two of them.

Ulquiorra, after making certain he'd eaten enough for both himself and his child, threw aside the remains of his kill and turned to his silent stalker. Murcielago was at the other hollow's throat within a millisecond.

"Because we are all the way out here with no cameras or bugs to record our conversation," Ulquiorra began in a dangerous whisper. The tip of his sword slid up to knock away the fake mask that covered M01's face. He'd suspected for some time that his mask was not real. M01 stared back at him defiantly, pink hair slipping into his golden eyes. Ulquiorra was slightly surprised to see that the boy he'd seen tortured a fortnight ago had been none other than M01, but he did not let it show on his face. "You are going to tell me everything," Ulquiorra continued, "...starting with your true name."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

_An Arrancar passed him in the hall. His gait was slow and seductive, moving as if it were mating season and he had a special victim in mind. But it wasn't. And this was the Espada tower, off limits to any Arrancar with a number above ten. It was during the golden reign of Aizen and Nnoitora had landed himself the position of the Eighth Espada. _

"_And just who the fuck do you think you are?" Nnoitora asked this intruder. He was answered with a coy grin._

"_I am Szayel Aporro Granz, head of the new science department. Surely, Aizen-sama informed you." his tone was mocking. This man, Szayel, stepped boldly forward into his personal space. He lowered his glasses and parted his lips in an alluring manner, "I've been watching you, praying man. How would you like to taste my forbidden fruit?"_

"No," Nnoitora growled, suddenly back in reality, "Take it away." He waved off the pathetic, terrified hollow who presented to him the food. These idiots, these naive fools... They held all this misplaced hope. They sought after saviors and a way out of the darkness, but Nnoitora, and only Nnoitora, knew the only way to escape the darkness of the Hueco Mundo was to embrace it.

The hollow standing on trembling legs darted off when Nnoitora's cold refusal finally hit him. Nnoitora never asked for this crowd of followers who had made him into some sort of king. He was not much more than an invalid now, unfit for battle and with a body slowly withering away. He wished only to be left in peace, left to die his sad, lonely death away from these young imbeciles who waited on and pampered him whether he asked for it or not.

Hoisting Santa Teresa over his shoulder he left the chair that was more of a sick bed than a throne. He walked through his forest upon heavy feat, snarling at any who ventured too close. He treated them harshly hoping they would loose faith and leave. He was wrong. They had gathered in greater numbers than ever before, under the delusion that together they could take on Szayel's growing empire. The addition of Grimmjow Jeagerjaques may have been the spark needed to begin this war, but ultimately it was _her _who was the fuel that led their fire. _She _was the cause of all of this trouble, but when she'd come to Nnoitora years ago on that dark night seeking asylum, he couldn't find it in himself to turn her away. However, neither could he stand to look at her...with her face to eerily similar to that twisted scientist. She'd been born of _their_ unholy union after all, and that union had been his biggest regret.

"_We're partners_,_ aren't we?" Szayel said in a sultry voice as his hand slowly moved down Nnoitora's chest. The Fifth Espada shuddered in hesitation, "Just once, that's all I am asking."_

Szayel's sly words rang in his ears. They'd spent years together building a magnificent fortress they called the Colony. After the fall of Aizen, Nnoitora's insatiable bloodlust had attracted him to Szayel's plan of world domination, but he should have known that Szayel was...dangerous. Several years alone with the man had cause him to forget...lull him into a false sense of security. After their...intimate encounter, Nnoitora had been lucky to escape with his head still attached to his body. One did not fuck Szayel Aporro Granz and expect to remain alive.

But as Nnoitora looked down at his burnt, putrid flesh, with bone showing through and with muscle rotting from the inside out, he knew he was still paying for that mistake. He could not fend off death forever. Szayel had left his mark.

Nnoitora closed his fingers into a fist, noting the painful splitting of the dead skin that came with the action. Soon. Soon he and Szayel would have their reunion.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: anyone still here? Gimme your thoughts and ramblings.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Just a reminder that while Sol may be a teenager, he is actually around 70 or so years old, since spiritual beings seem to age much slower. Keep that in mind while reading.

Chapter 35

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The hair on his skin was raised as he felt the sword at the back of his neck. His heartbeat accelerated and his breathing picked up. _These_ creatures were not human...these sword-wielding beings shrouded in black. Their reiatsu felt similar to that man, Ashido's. Perhaps they were the Shinigami Sol had been warned about. Their presence was so foreign...he could not assess whether he was stronger or not.

"Who sent you? Who are you working for?" the petite woman with the dark hair demanded. Sol opened his mouth but couldn't seem to find the words to reply. Across from him, the human boy with the orange hair was looking at the two newcomers with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Kuchiki-san...Abarai-san-" he began quietly, "What is going on?"

"You can't fool us, Arrancar," the man behind spoke to Sol, paying no attention to the human boy, "Your kind doesn't visit the land of the living for no reason," out of the corner of his eye, Sol saw that his captor had red hair and was wearing a uniform identical to the woman before him. "Come to devour the soul of this boy have you?" the man continued, taking Sol's silence for guilt, "You Arrancar are so predictable. Can't honor a peace agreement to save your life." His voice was full of malice when he spoke. Whoever he was, he had a strong hatred for Sol's kind. Sol knew he should tread carefully.

"Hold on..." began the human boy, finally speaking up to the two spiritual beings, "There must be some sort of misunderstanding here-"

"You should go home, Eiji," the man answered harshly, "This thing may look innocent, but his reiatsu indicates that he is a hollow." The boy, Eiji, looked from the man to the woman to Sol, clearly confused.

"I thought that hollows had masks," he replied, sceptically.

"Not all of them," the woman replied, and then to her partner, "Stand aside, Renji. I will perform this creature's purification." Sol's eyes widened. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Instead of being eaten he was to be...purified?

It all happened so fast. Sol heard a shout of protest from the boy just as the Shinigami woman drew her sword and aimed it at Sol's face. She thrust the blade forward.

But it never made contact. Instead, as if held in place against an invisible barrier, the woman's sword stopped an inch before his skin. There was a moment of stunned silence. Sol was frozen in place.

"What are you waiting for, Rukia?" demanded the red-haired Shinigami, "Do it." Rukia made a second attempt, swinging her sword up and across his face. Sol felt the whoosh of air and nothing more.

"My zanpankuto..." began the woman in disbelief, "cannot touch him."

The man, Renji, made a noise of frustration and attempted something similar, but when he was met with the same problem he was astonished.

"What...are you?" he growled to Sol. He and his partner were wary now, hostility radiating off of them as they held their weapons at him threateningly. Sol took a step back, his hand falling to where Luz rested at his hip. Would communication even be possible at this point?

"We shall have to inform command, Renji. Restrain him with kido."

_Restrain?_ No, Sol did not come here to be a prisoner. He gazed across from him and noticed that even the human boy now seemed nervous. This boy was his only lead. He couldn't afford for the two of them to be separated before they'd even had a chance to talk.

In truth, Sol did not know much of Luz's power, but he did know that his sword had the ability to momentarily disorient everyone within a certain radius with blinding light. He didn't need to think a moment longer. For a split second, the world was enveloped in an intense brightness that voided the surrounding area of color and anything else the mind used the senses to perceive. In that moment, Sol made his escape, taking the orange-haired human with him as he fled the two Shinigami with speed he'd never before tapped.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Sol brought the boy to his school, where he knew the human ought to be at this time of the day. Upon the roof, with the wind blowing his orange hair into his face, the human gazed at him...disappointed.

"Are you, then?" he asked, "A Hollow?"

"Yes," Sol answered. He scratched the back of his head as he always did to hide feeling awkward. He was uncertain what to say and didn't want to lose his only contact. "It seemed as though you knew those...Shinigami."

"They are something like the police force around here, keeping Hollows from attacking our town. They are good friends with my grandfather," the statement didn't make the awkwardness between them any less manageable. The fact that they were natural enemies hung in the silence between them. Then, the expression on the boy's face changed to that of a concerned one, "You are sure to be in big trouble with their organization now. You should go back to where you came from and avoid any trouble. And..." here the boy sighed, "...It'd be pretty stupid of me to hang around with someone who could eat me."

"If it makes you feel any better I only thought about it once."

"It doesn't," the boy scowled. Clearly this was a disturbing thought to a human.

"I came to this world to find some answers, that is all. From what you've told me, I think your grandfather is the man I need to speak to," Sol knew there were boundaries he was overstepping, "Please. If I give you my word that I won't do you or him any harm, will you take me to him?"

Here was the moment of truth. Could this boy find it in him to trust a Hollow?

A hand was extended to Sol.

"We haven't been properly introduced," the human finally replied, "I am Eiji Kurosaki." Sol took the offered hand tentatively, aware that this was a chance that he would never get again.

"Sol," he said in response as his clawed fingers closed around the human's in a brief, but strong grip.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"My true name? Something like that holds no relevance to you," M01 answered him coolly, eyes shifting from Ulquiorra's face, to his sword still attached to the Fourth Espada's waist and then back again. "If the Queen has not seen fit to tell you, why should I?"

"Because I have a sword at your throat," Ulquiorra answered simply. To enforce his point he pressed the tip into the flesh of his colleague's neck until he saw a bead of red. M01 contemplated for another moment before he began to speak slowly.

"I have no name. My name is M01. Our Queen prefers to identify us by a specific code of letters and numerals. You have spent no small amount of time with us, and given your level of intelligence, I would have thought you'd have recognized the pattern to our naming convention."

"I have," Ulquiorra assured him, "The letter designates you as a clone and the number, your place in the hierarchy. That makes you the highest ranked M-class clone," here, Ulquiorra lowered the sword a bit and raised a quizzical eyebrow, "Yet there are no M-class clones."

"Not yet. I am what you might call a prototype."

"Then who is S01?" ever since he'd mentioned her in connection with Grimmjow, Ulquiorra had been curious about her.

"A failed experiment. She had the chance to be great. She was the most powerful of us all, but she betrayed our Queen and now wages war against him. It is unforgivable and she must be destroyed at all costs." Ulquiorra did not miss how the other Arrancar's hands had curled into tight fists as he spoke.

"You and she," began Ulquiorra, "Are Szayel and Nnoitora's true offspring aren't you." Ulquiorra had long since made the connection. They were both frighteningly similar to Szayel in appearance. M01's eyes widened slightly upon hearing this, but he quickly regained himself. Perhaps he preferred not to think about such things.

"Among others," he answered vaguely, indicating that it was a sensitive subject, "I will not go against my orders. Tomorrow, I shall join my brothers in the hibernation chamber and my DNA shall be harvested for the production of the M-series clones. It is part of my duty, just as it was T01's, B01's, and D01's. S01 rejected the process, demolished half of the Colony in her rage, and then fled with the other cowards." Ulquiorra could feel it again. The emotion that was slipping into the boy's words. "What I don't get is why you should get the honor of killing her," he stepped forward, invading Ulquiorra's personal space, his eyes searching, "I've served my Queen faithfully...done everything he asked...no matter how horrible. You are an outsider. You are neither loyal nor devoted to His Majesty," his voice was rising in pitch, and eyes blazed with sudden hurt. "Why not me?"

Ulquiorra could feel this Hollow's...no...this boy's dedication. Even if he could not fathom such loyalty to Szayel, he could at least understand the sense of duty and responsibility. M01 was to Szayel what he had been to Aizen all those years ago. He did not want to disobey or displease...he only wanted to prove himself capable to the man he respected. It was a frightening feeling of dejavu. But this was also slightly different in that this was a child trying to please a parent.

"I am starting to think...that in certain ways children are quite predictable," Ulquiorra concluded quietly aloud. He took a step back and unconsciously put a hand to his belly. The comment came out more condescending as he intended. Really, Ulquiorra was just relieved. M01 was nothing but a kid desperately pining after his mother's love.

"I am no child," M01 bristled, shoulders stiffening. Clearly, he was insulted.

"That doesn't mean you are not still seeking some sort of affection from Szayel," Ulquiorra replied curtly, "And that notion in itself is ridiculous. Szayel will never love you, no matter how hard to try." The words were harsh but they were the truth. A truth that needed to be said.

"You plan to betray us. Ever since you've come here, I've known," M01 said, the anger in his voice now unmistakable. Ulquiorra knew better than to confirm that statement.

"Go to your _hibernation chamber_ if you believe it is your fate," Ulquiorra dismissed, "I will head out with Szayel's army to the Skeleton Plains tomorrow no matter what. There, a great many things will be decided. Hollows will die. Arrancars will die. And afterwards..." Ulquiorra paused intentionally, green eyes staring hard into the slightly wary gold ones before him, "You you may find that your destiny is something entirely different from what you've always expected."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The hospital room that Eiji led him to was dark and sterile and full of beeping monitors, but Sol had had time to get used to human technology and it didn't frighten him as it did in the past. They'd waited until the end of the day, entering the strange building that housed the sick and injured humans just as the glowing, orange sun was dipping below the horizon. There were curtains drawn around the bed in the corner and two visitors were already in attendance. One middle aged human woman with orange hair as bright as Eiji's and one elderly woman with long, white hair but youthful, grey eyes. Sol noticed, briefly, the glimmering flower clips in her hair.

"Eiji," said the woman who could only be his mother. She stood up. "You're grandfather is having one of his bad days. It might be best to visit him tomorrow instead."

"No," spoke the elder woman, using a cane to get wearily to her feet, "Eiji's brought a visitor. I think Ichigo would very much like to speak to the two of them." She stared directly at Sol as she spoke and the Hollow couldn't help but shiver.

"You are seeing things again, mother," the younger woman said with a sigh, "Very well. Don't spend too much time here, Eiji. Your grandfather needs his rest." Eiji simply nodded in response. The two women left and suddenly the room seemed very quiet despite the noise of the heart monitor and the respirator.

"Eiji," came a voice, "Is that you?"

"It's me," the boy answered as he drew back the curtains to reveal his elderly grandfather. The man was thin and weak looking, reclined against his pillows and attached to a number of machines. Eiji bent down to hug the old man. "Grandfather, I've brought someone who needs to talk to you. He has promised not to hurt us."

The old man's brown eyes turned to gaze at Sol and the Arrancar suddenly felt as if his heart had stopped. There was something inside him telling him that he'd met this old man before. Those eyes...that reiatsu...it was a more of a feeling than a memory, but a familiarity to say the least.

"It's good to see you again, Sol," the old man said, erasing any doubt. His face broke into a warm smile. Like a shy kitten, Sol's ears dropped and his tail curled between his legs as he slowly made his way toward the hospital bed. He startled when the old man reached up to pet him. "You've grown so much since I last saw you. You were only a tiny baby back then."

This old man was not afraid of him. This old man had known him as a baby. Sol's eyes widened.

"You know my parents," Sol breathed. The old man nodded solemnly.

"Even after all these years...how could I forget? Sixth Espada Grimmjow Jeagerjaques and Fourth Espada Ulquiorra Ciffer. I haven't heard a whisper of either since the destruction of Las Noches," the old man cocked his head to the side slightly, "I suppose I can assume, then, that they are both still alive?"

"Tell me," Sol pleaded, leaning his weight onto the small bed, "Tell me about their past. About you. About everything. I have to know." The old man studied him with his clear, brown eyes for a number of minutes before coming to a conclusion.

"Understand, Sol, that knowledge may be power, but ignorance is bliss. Your parents and I share a bloody history."

"I don't give a damn," Sol replied impatiently, "I've been wandering around in the dark for so long. Only guessing and wondering. Please, just tell me." Sol was resolute in this, and perhaps the old man could see it in his expression because he eventually closed his eyes and sighed.

"Very well. If that is what you wish," he settled back into his pillows as if preparing for a long story. "My name...is Kurosaki Ichigo..."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"What is this place?" the girl said quietly, looking around her in disgust. Grimmjow took his eyes off of the horizon for a moment.

"A graveyard," he answered shortly, "Why the hell do you think they call it the Skeleton Plains?" Indeed, the place was bleak. Stark white sand swirled around them in the small wind. All around were the skeletal remains of Hollows long since passed. Bones crunched under their feet as they walked. "Back in the old days, Baraggon Louisenbairn ruled the Hueco Mundo from here. When Aizen took over, he built Las Noches directly to the north and turned this place into a mass grave."

"What a dump," Stella replied. Grimmjow smacked her on the back of the head.

"Have some respect for the dead, you damn brat," he scolded, "If you don't like it, return to camp. I don't need you following me around."

"I want to know what you are doing all the way out here," she said, her eyes narrowing. They may be working together, but there was still very little trust between them.

"I'm waiting for someone," Grimmjow answered, "It ain't nothing important." He looked toward the horizon again and felt Stella sit down beside him in the dust. Damn kid was too curious for her own good. Grimmjow could not order her away so he would have to handle what was to come very carefully.

A few black dots appeared on the eastern horizon where Grimmjow had been watching. As they drew closer, their forms morphed into that of three Hollows: Ulquiorra's small form, flanked by two of Szayel's hulking monstrosities. Stella, upon recognizing them, growled and stood up.

"Hold it," Grimmjow said, putting a firm hand on her shoulder and shoving her back, "Let me do the talking."

"Grimmjow," Ulquiorra greeted him coldly once they were standing face to face. He wasn't able to say anything else before the two clones beside him noticed Stella and assumed battle stances. "Stand down," Ulquiorra told them harshly.

"Negative," answered the one on the left, "S01 is to be killed on sight."

"Direct orders from the Queen cannot be overridden," added the other.

Grimmjow saw at once the only way to resolve this problem would be to kill the clones. He did so quickly and easily, cutting through them both with Pantera as if they were made of butter. Ulquiorra did not react, letting Grimmjow slaughter his two associates.

"You're a great talker," the girl remarked dryly from behind. Grimmjow ignored her.

"Sorry," Grimmjow said to Ulquiorra. The smaller Arrancar gazed briefly at the two bloody messes beside him without interest.

"I shall find a suitable excuse," he sighed, shoulders dropping slightly. Grimmjow wasted no time in studying his lover. Drawn and weary, Ulquiorra was attempting to hide his frail appearance with intimidating posture, but Grimmjow could see right through him. He looked ready to collapse. It had been a number of months since their last encounter and though the armor Ulquiorra wore was thick, it could not fully disguise the fact that he was in the advanced stages of his pregnancy. Skinny though his build may be, he was full with child.

"You look thin," Grimmjow began, concerned, "More than usual. And that is saying somethin-"

"I am not here to discuss that with you," Ulquiorra snapped immediately. He turned to Stella, "S01, I have been ordered by Szayel to kill you. However, if you and Grimmjow can carry out my plan flawlessly, that needn't happen."

"No one can kill me," the girl answered proudly, "And why on earth should we trust _you?_" Ulquiorra blinked for a moment, perhaps surprised by her resistance.

"Have you not informed her, Grimmjow? It would have made this encounter a whole lot easier if you'd done so in advance," the dark-haired Arrancar said flatly. Grimmjow did not like being chided in this manner. He did not like the way Ulquiorra was attempting to dictate this meeting.

"It makes no difference now," Grimmjow retorted, ignoring the suspicious looks the girl was sending the two of them. "Our forces are camped nearby. We are ready to engage Baraggon."

"Now that I am here there has been a slight change of plan," Ulquiorra told him. Szayel has lent me his greatest amount of troops. We shall be attacking Baraggon from the south, slowly driving him north with our numbers while he massacres us along the way. When he reaches the ruins of Las Noches-"

"We'll be there to ambush him," Grimmjow finished. Ulquiorra nodded.

"Your forces' guerrilla tactics will be best utilized if you are hidden in the ruins. Once Baraggon is finished, you will still have the strength to finish Szayel's forces as well." Ulquiorra closed his eyes briefly and the hand at his sword traveled to the visible bulge of his lower abdomen. Was he in pain, Grimmjow wondered.

"And then?" asked Grimmjow, tearing his eyes away from Ulquiorra's waist.

"Szayel is eager to take Las Noches. The Queen, himself, is coming to the battlefield this time. However, you, Grimmjow, will likely be preoccupied with Baraggon and I am in no fit state to fight," Ulquiorra admitted reluctantly. His eyes flickered over to Stella, "Yet this may be our only chance." The girl quickly caught on.

"I'll be sure to end him," her eyes were suddenly ablaze with fire and passion, and Grimmjow knew that this had been what she was waiting for. Now that she was appeased, Grimmjow was certain she would have no fight to pick with Ulquiorra.

"Stella," Grimmjow spoke to her, his eyes still on Ulquiorra, "Would you leave us for a while?"

Again, she seemed to understand immediately, eyes widening as she realized that Grimmjow and Ulquiorra were more than simple accomplices. A light blush dusted her cheeks and she excused herself quietly.

Only the wind blowing through their hair made any movement. Neither of them seemed able to break the silence as they gazed at each other. Ulquiorra's weary longing met with Grimmjow's regretful sadness.

"It feels as though it has been centuries," Ulquiorra said quietly, "We are back were we started...as enemies."

"But this time we are only actors," amended Grimmjow, "And I don't know about you, but I'm damn sick of this charade."

"The time to drop the curtain is drawing near," Ulquiorra replied, keeping with the metaphor. He placed his hands over his middle, "As are other things." Grimmjow finally stepped forward, hand reaching out to caress his mate's long, dark hair.

"Go home, Ulquiorra. Feign an injury or illness. I'll take care of the rest." The smaller Arrancar only turned away.

"Even if we had a home to return to, it would be pointless to return without you. Save your noble speeches for your men," Ulquiorra replied, "I'll assist you for as long as I can."

Hearing such words from Ulquiorra's mouth made Grimmjow scowl. He didn't want his mate fighting out here with him...not while he was like this. Grimmjow didn't have a whole lot of knowledge pregnancy, but the signs Ulquiorra was giving off indicated that he would rather not be out on this deserted plain on the eve of a great battle. He would rather be resting comfortably in a dark cave somewhere preparing for the birth of his cub. Grimmjow took hold of his mate's shoulder none too gently, forcing the other man to gaze back at him through the corner of his eye.

"Promise me, Ulquiorra, that your grand, little play won't end in tragedy."

"Only the hero dies in a Tragedy," Ulquiorra informed him, "Don't become the hero, Grimmjow, and you will have nothing to worry about."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Battle raged around them. Debris and dust clouded the air and the unmistakable noises of Hollows locked in ferocious fights to the death reached their ears through the arid, desert atmosphere. But Grimmjow, with his comrades, lied in silent wait for their approach. Like shadows they blended into the crumbling ruins of the former castle of Las Noches, hidden but ready. The Hollows before them were completely unaware of the trap they were walking into.

"Now," whispered Grimmjow to the soldier standing next to him. His message was spread throughout the ruins and with the order given, his men crept from their hiding places and slaughtered the retreating troops belonging to the former Second Espada, Baraggon.

Grimmjow jumped into the fight with as much vigor as the rest of them, dodging cero's and avoiding the claws and blades that almost made contact as he passed. He roared, loud and dominating, letting everyone in the vicinity that Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was here and they now had a reason to fear. His Desgarron ripped through anything and everything in front of him, reducing structures and Hollows alike to crippled messes.

And then...all was silent. The slow footfalls of the Hueco Mundo's own grim reaper approached Grimmjow. He looked much the same as he had while they were working under Aizen...old...with white hair...mask nothing but a crown upon his head. He held up his double-edged ax and assumed a combat stance. He did not look happy to see Grimmjow.

"I guess you're a step above these insects, but I'll see you rot just the same as Szayel Aporro Granz's maggots," he threatened Grimmjow in his deep, gruff voice.

"Have you forgotten who your opponent is?" came Ulquiorra's voice, small but commanding. Baraggon took a step back and the three former Espada were suddenly arranged into a triangle, each aiming a weapon at another.

Baragon let out a noise that might have been an amused grunt.

"I've been hearing all sorts of rumors about the two of you. The Sexta and the Cuatro Espada that I knew couldn't even stand to be in the same room with one another, but now I find, that after my magnificent Las Noches was destroyed, not only are the two of you the culprits, but you've gone and mated for life. I don't think any of us expected that. The latest, however," his wrinkled eyes shifted from one opponent to the other, "is that the two of you have turned on each other once again. Hollows will be Hollows. There is no hope of humanity for us."

"Maybe not for a bastard like you," Grimmjow answered him. Now to turn the tables. "You have nowhere to run, Segunda. Ulquiorra and I will cut you down."

Grimmjow hadn't expected what came next...for Baraggon to erupt into sinister laughter. He should be afraid. He could not win. What was so funny?

"I know the smell of blood and the smell of death. It is all too familiar for an old man like me who has seen many things, but I also know the smell of a different blood. Blood that means _life_."

His suggestive gaze brought Grimmjow's eyes to Ulquiorra. For once, his mate's face was set in an angry snarl. Sweat had gathered in beads on his forehead and his body shook with pain and fatigue. Then, Grimmjow saw the blood slowly dotting the sand between Ulquiorra's legs.

The older Espada lunged at Ulquiorra with his ax and Ulquiorra brought up Murcielago to deflect him, but Grimmjow now saw the problem. The previous battle had taken it's toll on Ulquiorra. He was no match for Baraggon's strength. Grimmjow's intervention came too late. He watched as his mate was thrown onto the bloody sand like a rag doll and went still.

Grimmjow's rage prompted him to raise his reiatsu to a dangerous level. Baraggon, pleased with the reaction, commanded Arrogante to "rot" and transformed into his released state. Grimmjow, in all his anger, was not intimidated in the slightest.

They clashed without swords, and Grimmjow was forced to remember that he was indeed fighting the former king of the Hueco Mundo and the former Segunda Espada. Starrk had had a fighting style similar to Grimmjow's own, but Baraggon...knowing that a single touch of his _respira_ could send him to an early grave sent shivers down his spine.

And so they began their dance of death.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

_Green grass. There was no grass like this in the Hueco Mundo, Ulquiorra remembered as he parted the tall stalks. But why? Where was he? What about the battle? What about Grimmjow? Then he came to the realization that he was not conscious._

_This was the deepest part of his mind, taking the form of a long forgotten human memory. A demonic bat-creature covered in hair looked oddly out of place among the serene grove of blossoming sakura trees. Murcielago. He was looking at the true form of his weapon...his other half..._

"_This is absurd," Ulquiorra remarked._

"_Is it?" the bat creature answered him. "I am part of you just as a Shinigami's zanpakuto is a part of him. It is within my power to summon you in this manner if the situation calls for it. After all, if you die, I die with you."_

"_I am aware," Ulquiorra answered. Blossoms drifted from the trees and landed gracefully on the ground at their feet._

"_You have been severely injured and if you do not make use of my power...you may not live to see the next moonrise. However, release me and you risk harming the life you carry inside you. I felt it was you who needed to make this choice."_

_Ulquiorra closed his eyes, listening for a moment to the lazy drone of the cicadas. _

"_You have served me well, Murcielago."_

_.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o._

Ulquiorra regained consciousness slowly, eyes blinking away the sand. He didn't know how long he'd been out, it could have been minutes or hours, but the first thing he was able to lay his eyes on was the sight of a victorious Grimmjow pulling his sword with triumphant zeal from the bloody corpse of Baraggon Louisenbairn.

The pain slowly returned to Ulquiorra's body, and he let out a shameful whimper which he hoped only his own ears had heard. Grimmjow turned to him suddenly, his face previously set in hard lines softened and he quickly came to his mate's side.

"What are you doing?" Ulquiorra growled up at him from the ground.

"I can't just leave you like this," Grimmjow stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You have no choice. You must finish this or we will be Szayel's pawns forever. You must go on without me..." Ulquiorra told him harshly. He grit his teeth as pain washed over him, hands moving to grip his belly, "Fight, Grimmjow," he softened his voice. "For our..." he struggled with the word, "...family."

That last sentence, at least, seemed to have reached him. Grimmjow's expression changed. He straightened and retracted the hand he had offered to Ulquiorra.

"I'll come back for you," Grimmjow promised, "At least find some shelter and wait for me. I want to be there...for the baby."

"Then you'd best be on your way," Ulquiorra said impatiently. Grimmjow nodded. As he turned away, Ulquiorra briefly wondered if he should have requested a kiss.

If he'd had the courage to ask, it might have come across as weak, but...after all, he may never get the opportunity again.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: Let me remind you that NO ONE is dead yet. Please consider that before you yell at me.

Also, for the people who were wondering: I tend to ship Ichigo/Orihime because since Grimmjow and Ulquiorra are together in this story, it makes sense to me since usually people ship Ichigo/Grimmjow and Ulquiorra/Orihime. Furthermore, I am a Renji/Rukia fan.

None of these side pairings really matter for this story anyway. It was only for those who were curious. Just concentrate on Grimm/Ulqui and Szayel/Nnoitora for now.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

A/N: This chapter is very bittersweet to me. I love the way it turned out, of course, but this marks the end of another arc of this story. Thank you, all of my wonderful reviewers who have supported me on this long voyage, and THANK YOU, **lilarin** for being the best beta ever! I never would have gotten through this without you.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"You summoned us, Ichigo?" Renji spoke quietly from one side of the hospital bed. Rukia stood across from him, staring down at their elderly friend with a soft smile.

"That Hollow boy," began Ichigo in a raspy voice, "Do not attempt to fight him."

"You know we are under orders. We have to take him out," Rukia replied softly, but professionally. Across from her, Renji nodded in silent agreement. They still had a duty to the humans of this town and to Seireitei.

"You will find the task nearly impossible," Ichigo stated, a faint smile upon his lips.

Immediately, Renji fired up, taking a step toward the bed, "I've handled full-grown Arrancars before, what makes this brat so special?" Perhaps he was being arrogant, but he'd experienced everything an Arrancar had to offer. With Aizen gone, they were a dying breed.

Rukia placed a hand on Renji´s arm to calm him. Both waited silently for Ichigo to elaborate further but it took some time before Ichigo only shook his head wearily,"He is something the world has never seen before. He did not evolve into a Hollow. He was born one. He is pure. He cannot be cleansed like the others."

_Cannot be cleansed?_ wondered Renji, _that must have been why I could not put a scratch on him earlier._

"This..." Renji sputttered, "Then he is dangerous! Every Shinigami is nearly powerless against such a being!" he raged, finally putting together all of Ichigo's information, "We have to warn Seireitei!"

"No," replied Ichigo weakly, making a faint attempt to raise his hand. It was clear that the conversation was taking its toll on him, "He will find a way into Soul Society, and when he does, no one will be able to stop him."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Sol's new hiding spot was not as busy or interesting as his previous one. He suppressed his reiatsu now as much as possible but sometimes it was not enough. The Shinigami, even after being told by Ichigo Kurosaki that he was no danger to the town, still hunted him relentlessly. He made his new camp on the edge of town in an old, Christian graveyard. By day he hid in the luxurious burial house of a family named "Takahashi" and at night he strayed outside when he felt no one nearby.

Sitting upon one of the larger of the many cross structures that served as headstones, Sol watched the last rays of the sun's light dip below the horizon. He now understood the sun fever his parents had always mentioned. One look upon the beauty of the sun of the living world was enough for one to become addicted for a lifetime.

"Sol," said a quiet voice. Sol ignored it. "I was hoping I could find you here. I guess I was right." There was a long silence. "You don't want to talk to me, I get it," the boy finally sighed. Sol watched him out of the corner of his eye as the boy meandered around the graveyard, placing a flower on a grave here and there. A feeling of guilt suddenly struck the hollow. Sol had no reason to be angry with Eiji. What happened between their ancestors should not affect their acquaintanceship.

"Why the flowers?" Sol finally asked, hopping off the gravestone. Eiji looked up from where he was kneeling, a smile brightening his boyish face.

"For the dead. To let them know they are still remembered. To keep them at peace," the human stood and approached him, holding out a single rose the color of blood. Sol did not take the offered flower. Grimmjow was right. Flowers were a poor apology.

"I did not know..." Sol began slowly, "...that I was such a wretched creature." He stared Eiji fiercely in the eye, "Do you see me as a monster, human?"

Eiji dropped the arm holding out the flower and exhaled, "Those things my grandfather told you-"

"He told me a lot but he did not tell me enough," Sol snapped, as he began to pace among the headstones. Eiji's eyes followed him with their useless sympathy, "I am more confused than ever. My own parents... Do they even love me? I am not even sure they love each other. If I am not more than an experiment, then I want to know why and for what purpose I was born," Sol answered strongly, curling his hand into a fist. "This 'Aizen', he is the one I really must see."

Silence hung between the two of them for a period of time. In the end, Eiji bent down, placing the last rose on the gravestone before them.

Then, the human boy spoke, "I think I might be able to help you." he held out an object in his hand. It was a small plaque with a skull on it, "This is a substitute Shinigami combat pass. It can let us pass into Soul Society," Eiji reached up and unwrapped the object on his back. It was a large, sword, both thicker and longer than Luz, "And this is a Shinigami Zanpakuto. My grandfather gave these to me last night. It seems he doesn't want you to go alone to Soul Society. I can take you there...and perhaps to Aizen as well."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Though the most important hollows in the battle were already dead or incapacitated in some form, the wild beasts on both sides still had not ceased their fights. Dead bodies littered the ground. The smell of blood and death was all around him. Ulquiorra dragged his feet as far as possible from the fighting, losing himself completely into the destroyed castle. He found a small section where the foundation was still in place. Two concrete walls had fallen partially supporting each other. Ulquiorra collapsed against the cement, glad to be sheltered on almost three sides.

He found, once he was off his feet, that he was far more tired than he'd thought. Pure adrenaline had been what had gotten him through the last few hours. He let his head fall back against the wall, but it was hard to get comfortable when surrounded by only concrete and stone and with no remotely soft materials within an obtainable distance.

It was not an ideal place to give birth to his pup, but there was nothing he could do. He sighed deeply, caressing his cramping belly. His thoughts involuntarily drifted to Grimmjow.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

It was already over by the time Grimmjow arrived onto the scene. Szayel, the man with the plan, would of course never even have stepped onto the battlefield with a single doubt about his victory. Grimmjow stood back, nearly holding his breath, as the dust settled and he was finally able to observe.

Szayel pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "I was surprised how easily you fell into my trap. I thought you'd have come to this fight better prepared. How very disappointing, S01," he said smugly. The girl was lying in the sand, coughing up blood and sporting a variety of surface injuries.

"Your rein of tyranny...is over..." Stella panted, "We...can take you on. We...can beat you and you know it."

"I'm afraid there is no _we _anymore my dear," Szayel gestured all around him, "Look for yourself. I've killed them all. There is only you," he came at her with his Zanpakuto, "And now, it is time for you to die, my sweet, wayward daughter."

Grimmjow moved to interfere, but there was suddenly a hand on his shoulder stopping him.

"_We..._" Stella continued, "Are stronger...You are afraid..._scared_...of us."

Szayel's eyes widened in surprise. Four newcomers had sonidoed to him and surrounded him, each aiming their Zanpakutos at him. Grimmjow had never seen any of them before, but he knew just by looking at their faces that they were the lost siblings that Stella had been seeking. There was a large rather unintelligent looking male who was more Nnoitora than Szayel, there was a tall, slender, and beautiful female, and there was a short and heavily built male that held a scythe resembling Santa Teresa over his shoulder, but it was the smallest and least impressive one that Szayel addressed. The one that reminded Grimmjow distinctly of a mosquito.

"What is the meaning of this, M01?" Szayel asked low and deadly, "I thought I ordered you to return to the hibernation chamber. What are you," he stopped and corrected himself, "what are _all_ of you doing here?"

The mosquito hollow did not seem afraid. Hesitant, perhaps, but he did not back down.

"Unfortunately, there was a slight malfunction in my cell," he answered his queen coolly, "Well, not exactly a malfunction. You might want to call it-"

"-a revelation," finished the sibling with the scythe.

"We decided that you orders are more like suggestions, _Your Majesty,_" said the big one.

"And that _mother_ does not know what's best," the female stated cryptically. They all converged on their Queen, and fear flickered momentarily though Szayel's eyes.

"T01, B01, D01," Szayel commanded, "I order you to kill M01. Obey your Queen."

"They don't have to listen to you anymore," M01 spoke up at once, "I've reversed the tampering you've done on their minds. They are your slaves no longer. _I _am your slave no longer."

For a brief moment, Szayel looked rather stupid, standing there with his mouth open. He quickly regained himself, putting his hands together and applauding loudly.

"Bravo, M01. You always were the brightest of the bunch."

"Too bright, wouldn't you say?" M01 responded.

"Tragically so," Szayel said with a small chuckle, "You were destined for ruin, just like S01. I should have put you out of your misery sooner." At this, there was a ripple of anger in the reiatsu surrounding the mosquito hollow.

"I've come to realize that my misery ends with _you_!" M01 shouted. He drew his sword, "And that I was destined for _this_!" he slashed furiously with his sword and the others followed suit. Szayel was pushed into releasing his Zanpakuto and transforming into his more powerful state as he began to battle four of his children at once.

While the Eighth Espada was distracted, Grimmjow made his way to where Stella was lying on the ground. Her wounds were closing, but she was still gravely injured. Grimmjow had to lean in to hear her speak.

"Together...we are stronger," she stopped to cough, "And he knows this and fears us...but he _knows_ us. He knows everything about us...and that makes it impossible to beat him."

Grimmjow turned his eyes to the fight once more and immediately noticed that she was right. The four siblings were holding their own against their parent, but Szayel was ready for every single one of their attacks and knew how to counter it. It was only a matter of time before they would all succumb.

Grimmjow put a hand on Pantera's hilt. He would have to step in.

Something grabbed his ankle, Grimmjow looked down to see Stella's fingers clutching his pants.

"This is," she wheezed, "our fight."

"Look," Grimmjow sighed, "I'm not just gonna sit here and watch all the little kiddies die. I'm here to kill Szayel as well."

"You will be met with the same problem. He knows everything there is to know...about Grimmjow Jeagerjaques," slowly, very slowly, Stella got to her feet, "The only way to beat him, is to do something that's never been done before," she drew her sword.

"Spin, _Viuda Negra_."

Before his eyes, she transformed. Her body elongated and she became spider-like, growing six extra arms. She wore a vest with eight gun slings, each containing a small needle-gun. Unfortunately, even in her released state, her injuries refused to heal. She fell to one knee and continued to pant heavily. She ordered Grimmjow to step out of the way and he complied.

Inhaling sharply, eight hands pulled eight needle-guns from their holsters and aimed them all at Szayel. Her eyes narrowed as she waited for an opening.

"Adios...madre."

She fired.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Nnoitora had come, of course, to observe the battle. He had an army fighting in his name after all, but then again he'd never actually informed anyone of his coming. It was better this way. He watched quietly while Stella's eight poisoned needles each struck Szayel in a vital area. For a moment, the _queen_ was simply shocked. Then, he was angry and he ripped each needle from his skin and renewed his fight. However, the damage was done and somehow all of them knew it. They simply dodged Szayel's attacks until the poison's effects began to manifest themselves and the Eighth Espada's limbs slowly began to fail him. Szayel fought the paralysis tooth and nail but there was nothing he could do. In the end, he fell pathetically to the ground.

The mosquito boy wanted to end him, Nnoitora could tell. The other children were just as savage and blood-thirsty. Killing was the only thing on their minds. What little monsters they were. Nnoitora could no longer resist the temptation to reveal himself.

His presence was like a rain cloud descending upon the desert. The little beasts stepped aside, staring at him curiously. Stella was the only one who knew both her parents. The rest of them had never laid eyes upon their sire. Oh, but they knew who he was instantly. They could feel it in his reiatsu.

"Leave us," Nnoitora commanded, "I shall be the one finish Szayel Aporro Granz."

Their curiosity changed quickly into fear and hostility, but none raised their voice in argument. Instead they collected their injured sister, Stella and fled. Grimmjow eyed him for a moment, but then seemed to decide that the job was done and he was needed elsewhere. He left as well.

Szayel was laying on his side, breathing erratic, shallow breaths, but when he sighted Nnoitora he turned into the feral beast he was, snarling and clawing at the dry sand frantically. Was he afraid or angry? Nnoitora couldn't tell. He'd never really seen Szayel experience either of the aforementioned emotions.

"How does if feel to finally be staring death in the face?" Nnoitora asked him, his voice in something of a sneer. The answer he recieved was a hysterical bark of laughter.

"Oh, it's not all that bad. My death will still be kinder than yours, after all. Rot away your remaining years and wallow in your misery," Szayel punctuated his last sentence by flinging a handful of dry sand at Nnoitora. The taller Arrancar wiped the grains from his eyes furiously and used Santa Teresa to pin his former mate's arm to the sand. Szayel hissed in pain.

"I thought we were partners," the scientist said, no sarcasm evident in his voice anymore. He was looking up at Nnoitora from his back, having finally given up his struggle.

"We were never partners. Partners don't try to kill each other," Nnoitora said, putting pressure on his weapon.

"You should have known that the price of fucking me is your life. If you give me your seed, you must also give me your flesh. A bug like you should know all about the rules of sexual cannibalism."

"I know, and that is why we ain't partners," Nnoitora reiterated. He got down painfully on one knee, so that he and the Eighth were eye to eye. He could spit right in the freak's face right now if he wanted to. He sorta wanted to. But instead... "we're _mates,_" he put a heavy emphasis on the last word.

Silence hung between them for several long seconds as Szayel's animosity slowly lessened. He wasn't stupid. He understood. When Szayel spoke next it was in a weak, but oddly satisfied voice. The deal had been brokered.

"If you want to fuck me for the last time, perhaps you should do it now. S01's neurotoxin will leave me dead within the hour."

The words couldn't have been more arousing to Nnoitora's ears.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The gates closed behind them, and Sol had the strangest feeling of apprehension in his stomach. This wasn't quite the same as the time he had passed from the Hueco Mundo into the living world. He felt a chill down his spine...like something was watching him.

"Where are we?" he asked Eiji. The boy was taking in his surroundings as well. Sol was forced to remember that all Eiji knew was what others had told him. They were going into this blind.

"This is the world between worlds," Eiji answered in a hushed voice, "It is the only way to get to Soul Society unless you have a Hell's butterfly. It is constantly being monitored so I suggest you hide your reiastu as much as possible. It is not uncommon to find Hollows here, but the sweepers take care of any intruders that linger too long," Eiji started forward, "Follow me. Our only chance is that my own reiatsu reads close enough to my grandfather's and they let us pass."

"What happens when we get in?" Sol wondered aloud, falling into step behind the human boy.

"Once we pass through, it is only a matter of time before they figure out I am an imposter and that you...well..." Eiji sighed, "I haven't thought that far, I guess," he gave Sol a look out of the corner of his eye. "I'll create a distraction. It will be up to you to break into the Central 46's underground prison."

"What if we fail?"

"Then I suppose we'll both probably be executed," Eiji said with a nervous laugh. His voice turned serious, "We have one shot at this. Let's make it count 'cause its my life on the line as well."

"Agreed," Sol replied. They walked on in silence. On and on and there seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel. Sol was just about to lose hope when finally he found himself next to Eiji out in the bright sunlight, looking upon the grandeur of Seireitei.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Scouring the ruins of Las Noches, Grimmjow called out to his mate with increased urgency. Each time there was no answer. He stepped over bodies and pools of blood. Scavengers lurked nearby waiting for their chance to feast upon the dead, but Grimmjow's reiastsu held them at bay.

"ULQUIORRA!" Grimmjow shouted. His voice echoed off the crumbled remains of what where once great, white walls.

"He calls for his mate," the anonymous whisper mocked, "But he'll find nothing but death at Las Noches."

Grimmjow ignored his rising fear and continued to search. Ulquiorra couldn't have gotten too far. The sky clouded over and the moon disappeared, shrouding the Hueco Mundo in complete darkness. Grimmjow finally sensed a weak reiatsu and followed it hurriedly to a small niche created by two cement walls that had fallen on top of each other. Inside he was met with sharp, green eyes. It was nearly too dark to see, but Grimmjow could smell the blood that he was kneeling in.

"You're alive," Grimmjow breathed, quite relieved.

"You told me to wait for you," Ulquiorra panted, "Here I am," he took hold of Grimmjow's arm in a fierce grip and pulled him in until their lips met. Grimmjow tangled his fingers in Ulquiorra's sweat-drenched hair and deepened the kiss.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Nnoitora fucked that cunt of a scientist raw and bloody, seeing past everything that had happened between then and submitting to his lustful desires. Szayel clenched him with sickeningly pleasureful tightness as this, indeed, would be the last fuck of his life. Noitora fucked Szayel until he was half buried in the sand. The other Arrancar was staring up at him with yellow eyes that were becoming glassy when Nnoitora finally stiffened and spent his seed inside his mate.

"This is your chance to run," Szayel reminded him in a voice barely more than a whisper. Nnoitora only clenched his fists in the sand and kept his hot gaze on the former Eighth Espada.

"Do it. I'm ready," the Fifth said with finality.

"Very well," answered Szayel and his instincts took over. He bit into the flesh of Nnoitora's cheek and stripped it from the bone. It was excruciating, but Nnoitora only closed his eyes and let his mate continue. Bit by bit, the Fifth Espada was slowly eaten into. The flesh upon his neck, his chest, his face...were soon gone.

Unfortunately, the poison took Szayel before he could complete his meal. Nnoitora watched for a moment as his own blood dripped slowly onto Szayel's dead body. With a howl of anguish, Nnoitora took hold of Santa Teresa and plunged the scythe into his own chest. How shameful to have to die by his own hand.

With shaking fingers, Nnoitora brushed a few stray hairs off of Szayel's face. Darkness overtook his vision and he laid his head upon the Eight Espada's chest. He breathed his last.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The cloud cover lifted and Grimmjow, once again, was able to see. It was all he was able to do as Ulquiorra suffered greatly bringing their cub into the world. Ulquiorra refused most of his help, saying that he could do it on his own, but clearly, he was struggling.

For hours, there seemed to be very little progress. Ulquiorra changed positions frequently. He seemed almost embarrassed by Grimmjow's presence, but at least refrained from ordering him away. Then, Grimmjow could see the head of their cub emerging and his heart sped up with excitement. Even though Ulquiorra had not beckoned him, he came closer anyway. Ulquiorra reluctantly dropped his guard and allowed his mate between his parted legs.

Ulquiorra strained and let a few painful noises escape him as his body relinquished the child into Grimmjow's waiting hands. Grimmjow stared with awe at the newborn, a perfect replica of Ulquiorra. A boy. He could not help his excitement when the little cub began to squall.

"Look, Ulquiorra. He-" the words caught in his throat, "...looks just like you." Something was wrong. He did not like the way Ulquiorra was looking at the two of them with sad, weary eyes. Grimmjow furrowed his brow, concerned. He thrust the baby into Ulquiorra's arms.

"Look at him," Grimmjow ordered his mate. The tone of his voice had changed to deadly serious, "He needs you, so don't you even for a second think-" again the words got stuck. Ulquiorra calmly handed the child back to him.

"Name him something good, Grimmjow," the Fourth said weakly as laid his head back against the wall, Now, leave me in peace...for a while."

"NO!" Grimmjow growled, "No!" using the arm not holding the crying babe, he shook Ulquiorra roughly, "I'm not going anywhere! And neither are you!"

"I...love you too, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said with only a slight hesitation, closing his eyes. A lone tear spilled down his cheek, following the green trail already permanently engraved onto his skin.

This was real. Grimmjow suddenly decided. Ulquiorra was not going to listen to him. A horrifying feeling suddenly settled in his stomach. He removed his shaking hand as if burned. What about their promise? They were supposed to be together forever, as sappy as that sounded. They were mates for life!

Grimmjow was angry, and his shoulders shook with all his rage, but he didn't have the heart to take it out on Ulquiorra now. Not after he'd witnessed all the pain and suffering his mate had gone through to give him this cub. It wasn't fair! Ulquiorra could command him not to give up but now that Grimmjow knew the effort it took to give life, he couldn't find it in himself to order the same of Ulquiorra. With an angry snarl, Grimmjow stood up and left the shelter, cradling his tiny baby and willing the wetness in his eyes to abate.

It was drizzling. Water met sand and was drunk greedily into the dry ground. The baby's cries echoed in the silence.

Grimmjow's eyes widened. In all his anguish he had failed to notice what was happening outside. All around him were Hollows of all shapes and sizes and all power levels. Some were part of Nnoitora's team, worn and ragged. Some were Szayel's, noticeable in their uniforms. Some Grimmjow remembered fighting for Baraggon. Some Grimmjow was sure he'd never seen before.

"Bow before the new king of the Hueco Mundo," Stella's voice broke the silence, "Kneel! All of you!" and they did. One by one until they were all prostrate before him.

"Stop," Grimmjow said quietly, "Stop that!" his voice louder, rising to an angry growl, "I don't want this! Any of this! It was not supposed to be this way!" it wasn't. Everything was over. He was supposed to go home with Ulquiorra and the new cub and continue their simple life. They should be gone now, far away from the mess that Szayel and Nnoitora created and the politics of the Hueco Mundo's throne. Grimmjow felt like screaming, but it would not do to break down now. Stella, who was still injured and being supported by her siblings, broke away and limped up to him.

"Then," she spoke harshly, facing him, "What way would you have it, King Grimmjow? You and your mate have done the Hueco Mundo a service it can never forget. We are in your debt." For a moment, Grimmjow's eyes searched frantically and his mind raced for a solution. He could hear the child in his arms crying needfully in the background. Grimmjow's cat-like pupils came to a rest upon M01 and the others.

"You!" Grimmjow demanded, as he pointed to the five siblings of Szayel and Noitora's brood, "You whose blood is the same as Szayel's. Save Ulquiorra! Use your science and do whatever you can to save my mate," he gestured to the concrete shelter behind him. For a moment no one moved and Grimmjow could hear his own, anxious heart pounding in his ears.

Then M01 stepped forward.

"I will try my best," he said sincerely, and with Grimmjow's permission, ducked into the shelter.

Only to emerge not a minute later, looking quite confused. He addressed Grimmjow formally, "I am unsure what exactly you wanted me to do, My King. All of your mate's injuries have long since healed. If a little tired, he and your child seem in perfect health."

Now it was Grimmjow's turn for confusion. He reentered the shelter to find Ulquiorra, not dying in the slightest, but caressing the soft, black fluff upon the head of a tiny, female cub and cooing to her gently. However, when he noticed that Grimmjow had returned, he stopped and blushed crimson.

"You bastard," Grimmjow said with narrowed eyes, "I thought you were dying. I thought you were a gonner."

"I don't remember saying anything of the sort. All I asked was that you leave me in peace," Ulquiorra replied flatly.

"I assumed the worst! What reason could you possibly have had in telling me to leave like that?" Ulquiorra's blush did not leave him. He'd known what he was doing.

"I wanted to have the girl all to myself for a short period of time," Ulquiorra admitted, guilty. He returned his attention to the child in his arms, "She is my princess."

"You fucking-" Grimmjow was seething, "You've known all along that there were two."

"Perhaps." the smaller Arrancar answered him suggestively. His tone changed to that of the commanding Fourth Espada, "Now, we seemed to have attracted some unwanted attention. Go and deal with it, Grimmjow. I want us to be alone with our new pups."

"I..." Grimmjow began. He sighed and gave up on his tirade, "You're such an asshole."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

"Empty," Sol said suspiciously as he concentrated on finding reiastu signatures ahead.

"Hmm," Eiji hummed, concerned, "This isn't right. The Central 46's building is supposed to have the tightest security in all of Seireitei. We haven't encountered anyone so far, and every door we've come across has already been unlocked. It's as if someone knows we are here and is trying to help us," Eiji reasoned.

"That, or someone merely got here before us," Sol said as he pushed onward.

"If that was the case, this place would be littered with bodies," Eiji replied with a small shudder, "No we definitely have a guardian angel here in Seireitei."

"Angel?" echoed Sol, "From everything your grandfather has said about Aizen, this _angel_ could very well be leading us to our deaths."

"Ah," Eiji gulped, "That is true."

They turned corridors and descended staircases, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth. The spiritual restrictions that had been placed on this building were so intense that Sol could feel his powers dwindling to nothing the farther in they went. No prisoner, no matter how powerful, could escape from here, where even the smallest amount of reiatsu was sucked into the walls.

An old door, locked and chained. But this had to be the right cell. Sol put his hand to the lock and suddenly, with no key or combination, it clicked open. The chains slithered to the floor, making loud, clinking noises in the deafening silence.

"How did you do that?" Eiji whispered in awe.

"I didn't," Sol answered, now very nervous. He pushed the door in slightly and saw only darkness at first. Taking a breath, he entered the cell. It turned out to be a large, circular room. Seals, barriers and other Shinigami enchantments glowed all around.

In the center was a man. A very ordinary looking man who was thin and had stringy brown tresses that looked as though they hadn't been washed in decades. He was pinned to the ground in several places with a powerful seal. Sol didn't really know what he had been expecting, but the man hardly seemed dangerous enough to need all of these barriers. From the stories, he sounded much more frightening.

The prisoner looked up and Sol found himself caught in all-knowing brown orbs. Then the man spoke in a voice that raised the hair on Sol's neck

"They said that this place was impregnable, but they did not take into account the power of the Hogyoku."

Sol's eyes widened. He had forgotten about the little, glass ball his father had entrusted to him. He fished it out of his pocket. The prisoner's eyes lit up upon seeing the glowing Hogyoku. He smiled a warm, fatherly smile that did nothing to put Sol at ease.

"I knew you'd seek me out someday, my dear boy."

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

A/N: Right, so Stella uses a few Spanish phrases in this chapter and if you are a non-Spanish speaker (like myself) you'd probably be curious about what they meant.

The name of Stella's sword- _Vuida Negra = _Black Widow (one of the most poisonous spiders in the world)

"Adios...madre" = "Goodbye...mother"

Again, I'd like to say that this is the end, but I simply cannot stay away from this story. It fascinates me so. Review and demand more, or even suggest further plot ideas. Anything you want to see! If I like it, I will write it.

hasta luego


	37. Author's note

Authors Note: Hey all! If you liked this story then I encourage you to check out the sequel, Bequest. You can find it in my profile. Thanks again for all your support.

-Showmaster64x


	38. Important Update

Hi everyone! Another author's note here. I know I've been neglecting you all by not updating Bequest but I promise it was for a good cause! I have been working on an original novel with a setting much like the hueco mundo and two main characters much like Ulquiorra and Grimmjow.

It makes me feel shitty for making such a blatant plug, but if you liked this story, or any other fantasy-type mpreg, go check out my novel _Eternal Shadow_ by my newpseudonym Nicole Cambridge. The url to the amazon page is in my profile along with a summary.

I priced it as low as i could and still keep max royalties, but if you absolutely can't spend 3.99 on it then know that it will be available for 99 cents from March 29- April 8 2014. Tell all your yaoi buddies. I shall be updating Bequest soon now that I have more time. Thank you all for your continued love and support. Without you I never would have learned how to write and you will find that _Eternal Shadow _has been dedicated to you, my lovely reviewers.


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